In The City of Dreadful Night
by Lazarus76
Summary: Historical !AU. An young American detective is brought to London to help find out why young women are disappearing - A London that is grimy, gaslight, and full of unexpected surprises. A/A.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer:** Inception does not belong to me. Setting: London, 1890s**

Arthur shivered as he stepped outside, and reflexively pulled up the collar of the great coat. He frowned as a couple of children walked past, almost stumbling into the road. "Watch out!" he shouted, as they wandered haphazardly out of the way of a horse and dray cart.

Eames shook his head. "Forget it, Arthur. You can't stop them doing that."

"Well, they should learn to look then," he snapped back, irritably. "And not walk in front of-"

"Arthur." Eames looked at him, and frowned slightly. "Those children are in no fit state to see anything." He sighed. "Gin for breakfast, probably."

"What?" Arthur looked at him, shocked. "Gin?" He looked after the small figures, becoming quickly enveloped in a haze of fog and filthy smoke erupting from the back of the shops. "Not water? Or even, milk?" He looked at Eames, a frown undercutting his handsome features. "Eames, those children - their parents-"

"We are currently standing in one of the poorest boroughs of London," Eames reminded him. "Most of the parents here can barely afford bread for themselves, let alone milk, as you seem to think." His words were swallowed by the rumble of wheels, as another dray cart hurtled by, splattering the two men lightly with mud. Arthur tutted with disgust.

"Get used to it," Eames said cheerfully, and turning his head, nodded towards the building behind them. Frowning, and looking with disgust at the light staining on his tawny overcoat, Arthur followed him into the large, smoky, booze-soaked building.

"Have a seat," Eames said, affably, pointing to a chair. Arthur seated himself, drawing his legs in. He pulled his coat around him, and studied the clientele. They were of all ages, seated, standing, laughing, talking, and he noticed, all accompanied with glasses of liquid. He swallowed. The appetite of the citizens of this city for alcohol was beyond anything he'd ever encountered.

"All on your own?"

Arthur blinked, and looked up. A woman, her face so heavily painted he could not discern her age, was standing next to him, smiling in a manner that was almost a leer. "Because if you are-" the comment was delivered suggestively, accompanied by a flirtatious wink.

Arthur stiffened. Just what sort of place was this?

"Now, Maggie!"

The woman turned, her stiff red skirts rustling, and her face drawing down into a frown. Eames was shaking his head. "Please leave my colleague alone," he said, politely. "Or I can guarantee you will get into trouble."

Scowling, she began to move away, but turned back to Arthur as she did so. "Offer's still open!"

"Thanks," Arthur mumbled, turning a light shade of crimson. Eames shook his head at the woman as she left. "Bit of an occupational hazard, Artie. Need to be careful. But, you turned her down, so that's good."

Arthur swallowed. "Well, I-" he stopped, concerned he was appearing more naive than he was. Of course, she was a prostitute. Or tom, as he'd heard them referred to. He rubbed his face. _New York was better than this, _he thought, frowning angrily.

"Here you go!" Eames said, cheerfully, plonking two glasses on the table. Arthur pulled one towards him. "What is it?"

"Scotch. Good quality."

"Inspector-"

"Eames, just Eames," he said, firmly, shaking his head. "No Inspector here, please. As soon as they find out -" he swallowed, and leaned forward - "you might end up with more than you bargained for." He picked up his scotch. "I'm not calling you Lieutenant, am I?"

Arthur stared gloomily into his glass. "Well, I-"

"Oh, I know." Eames nodded. "Sent here from Chicago - you think you've been sacked. Well, you haven't, you're here to help us. That's why we asked for you."

"You did?" Arthur swallowed. "Well, thank you."

"Look." Eames leaned forward, his face serious. "We have a problem in this city, Arthur. A big problem. Young women are disappearing, and no-one is sure why, or what's happening." He sat back, and took a swallow of scotch. "And when they do re-appear, they're-" he twitched, and looked round.

"Go on," Arthur prompted, fingering his own glass.

"Dead." Eames spoke with finality. "And often - mutilated." He shook his head. "No idea what kind of sick bastard is doing this, but its got to stop. And because of the success you had in Chicago -" he looked at the other man - "we thought 'let's get him over here, join the peelers.'"

"Peelers?" Arthur looked confused.

"Sir Robert Peel, founder of the police - Peelers," Eames explained. He yawned. "And tonight, you're in for a treat."

"Really?" Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Which is?"

"Whitechapel. Thought we'd watch, and wait."

Arthur shook his head. "That's too obvious. We need to be more careful." He picked up the glass, and finished the scotch. "How else do you think we found Henry Holmes?"

"So what do you suggest?"

"I suggest we go, and look back through the evidence you have so far." Arthur put the glass back on the table. "Back to the station."

"All right." Eames began to get up, and frowned at him. "Let's go."

"Well, I'm sorry I'm interrupting your drinking session," Arthur almost snapped, "but young women are-"

"Shush!" Eames hissed at him. "Do you want the whole pub knowing our business?"

Arthur shook his head, slightly embarrassed. "No."

"Learn to keep your voice down, then." Frowning, the older man began to move away from the table, and out of the door. Arthur followed, accidentally colliding with a figure on the street.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" He exclaimed, bending down to help pick up the things she had scattered. He looked up, and realised he was looking into the face of a young woman. She frowned. "Thank you."

"Are you allright?" he asked, courteously. She nodded, and taking the packages, placed them back in her basket. "Thank you."

Arthur nodded. "My pleasure." She hurried away from them, and he stood, watching after her.

"Arthur," Eames spoke suddenly. "Come on. We need to get back to the station, right?"

Arthur, still watching the retreating figure, nodded. He shivered as the cold air began to creep across, and noticed the darkening sky was being lightened by the gaslights. "Yes. Come on."

**Please review - it is appreciated!**


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: **Inception does not belong to me.**

"Right. Let's go."

Arthur blinked, and turned to the other man. He had been watching the petite figure disappearing into the smog enveloped street, her skirt hooked up daintily over her wrist. He frowned, and nodded.

"Stop letting your mind wander." Eames spoke almost brusquely. "We have a job to do...in fact, I believe it was your suggestion."

Arthur nodded as Eames walked to the edge of the pavement, raising his arm. A cab drew up, the horses snorting at the abrupt movement. Eames tipped his hat to the driver.

"Police station?" he spoke authoratively. The driver nodded, and gestured for them to enter. As the doors closed, and the horses impatient stamping turned into movement, Arthur felt his mind wander back to the young woman.

* * *

"Ariadne?"

Ariadne blinked as she entered through the backdoor, into the large, stone tiled kitchen. Selina, the housekeeper, was standing at the table, frowning. Her face creased into concern as the young woman entered. "Yes, its me."

Selina shook her head. "Have you seen the state of you?" Her tone was annoyed, and she was glancing from the young woman's clothes to the floor, which, Ariadne noticed, had been washed until it gleamed. She bit her lip - her skirt's hem had dragged in the heavy mud, and she noticed, with horror, that it was already beginning to break off and deposit on the floor. _  
_

Ariadne looked down, swallowing. "Its muddy out there," she offered, apologetically. Selina had been part of the master's household as he'd transferred from New York to London, and Ariadne knew she bitterly resented her. The housekeeper was dark haired, dark eyed, and attractive - and it was clear to all the staff that she considered herself a wife-in-waiting to the widowed master of the household. She was standing, clad in black, smoothing her hands down the dress she was wearing, which emphasised her figure - a figure she often paraded, fussing over the master, taking him cups of tea which he hadn't requested, and finding excuses to interrupt his business meetings with trivial household matters. She shook her head, her annoyance exacerbated by Ariadne's seeming lack of movement.

"You need to get changed," she commented, her tone almost snappish. "But don't trail mud through my kitchen!" she said, almost in horror. "Oh, and the children have been difficult this morning." She was now wearing an expression of almost annoyance. "They were left in the nursery, unattended." She scowled at Ariadne. "Mr Cobb hired you to make my life easier, and all you do is make it more difficult!"

Ariadne bit her lip, then suddenly her eyes widened. Round her neck, the housekeeper was wearing a string of beautiful pearls. She realised Ariadne was gazing at them, for her hand went to her throat. "Stop it," she snapped, irritably.

"No, they're lovely. They suit you." Ariadne nodded. Flattery, she knew, was a means of appealing to the housekeeper's sensibilities. Selina's hand fluttered at her throat, making as if to stroke them, and her face began to crack into a smile.

"They are." She smiled at Ariadne. "They're from an admirer."

"From London?"

Selina shook her head. "No. From a very rich man in America. Who would have married me...had he not died first." She spoke matter of factly, and began to turn her attention to the bread dough she was kneading. She looked up. "Do you think anyone in this godforsaken city would ever give me pearls?"

"I like it here," Ariadne volunteered. The architecture of the City of London - from the graceful sweep of St Pauls' dome, to the towering menace of the bridge, to the tiny, rickety streets and gloomy alleyways held her entranced. "Its so-"

"Cold." Selina interrupted. "And gloomy. And dark. And full of mud." She shook her head. "Oh, to go back to New York!" She sighed, dramatically.

"Well, you could-"

"Oh, don't be ridiculous!" Selina snapped, her brows lowering. "There's no job on the stage for me!" She shook her head. "I could have been a dancer, or an actress. And I end up playing nursemaid to two children who I don't-"

Suddenly, the bell rang, sharp and piercing. Selina scowled. "I'd better go." She began to smooth her hair, and rub her cheeks to bring some colour into them. "As for you- get changed, then go to the nursery. You are meant to be the governess, correct?"

Ariadne nodded. "Yes."

"Well, go and get changed! The master did not hire a slattern!" Pulling off her apron, she gracefully hurried towards the door, quick and mindful to attend to the master's needs.

Ariadne dropped the packages on the table, and began to leave the room, carefully holding up her skirts so as not to drop mud over the expensive rugs. As she left the kitchen, she headed for the back stair well, hoping to reach the nursery and her adjoining room without incident.

"Miss Hayes?"

Ariadne blinked, shocked, and turned. The master of the house, Dominic Cobb, was standing at the foot of the stairwell. He was frowning slightly. She immediately bobbed into a curtsey. "Sir," she said, quietly.

"Miss Hayes, you're covered in mud." His voice was solemn. "Did you not get a cab back from the centre?"

She bit her lip. She had not - because Selina had swiped the money from her as she had left. She was shocked at the housekeeper's audacity, but also knew that she would not be believed. "I did, Sir," she lied, guiltily. "But he stopped into front of a large patch of mud."

Cobb nodded, his face furrowing into a frown. "That is not acceptable." He shook his head. "I need to ensure that does not happen again."

She flushed. "I'm sorry Sir."

"No need to apologise." He smiled, his blue eyes lifting slightly. "Please, go and change, and then come downstairs. There's a gentleman here I would like you to meet."

She nodded. "Of course, Sir. The children...?"

"They're in the drawing room, with me."

"Oh?" Ariadne was surprised. "But Miss Kyle told me-"

"Miss Kyle is not privy to all the movements of this household," he interrupted. "I would like you to join myself and children in the drawing room, as I believe you would enjoy meeting my guest."

"Thank you, Sir." Ariadne nodded, then quietly walked upstairs to change.

* * *

"Come on!"

Arthur blinked. "This isn't the station,", he said, questioningly. "This is-"

"Millbank." Eames nodded. "Come on."

"Millbank? Its-"

"Its the largest prison here," Eames explained. "Home to both men and women."

"What?" Arthur blinked, frowning. "You lock men and women up together here?"

"No, not together. They are kept in separate wings, and have different meal times, but yes, we do lock them in the same building."

"And why are we coming here?" Arthur shivered as he stepped out of the cab. The night was darkening into twilight, and the cold was beginning to creep its way onto his skin. He pulled his well-cut suit and greatcoat round him more tightly.

"I thought you'd want an opportunity to see what we're dealing with," Eames said, softly.

"There is a man out there killing and mutilating young women." Arthur looked at him. "And you bring me here?"

"He didn't kill all of them."

"No?"

"No. One of his victims...ended up here."

"Here?"

"There is - " Eames paused - "there's a woman here who was found on the streets, crying and moaning. She'd had the symbols carved into her arm, but she attacked the people who tried to help her. So they brought her here."

"And you brought me here to see this?"

"Yes." Nodding, Eames rang the outside bell, and the two men waited for the great door to creak open.

**All reviews appreciated, thank you!**


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer:** Inception does not belong to me. Setting: London, 1890s**

Arthur shuddered as he walked through the heavy gated doors. A pervasive smell of dirt and blood was lingering in the air, leaving a metallic after taste. He pulled the collar of his great coat up, and began to follow Eames.

A warder looked up, her mouth curling as she saw the two men. She was wearing a heavy, plain black dress, with keys attached to the thin leather belt. She nodded. "Gentlemen?"

"London Met," Eames said, promptly. "Investigating the disappearances of young women in East London."

Her eyebrow raised. "So, here to see the last alleged victim?"

"Yes," Arthur said, almost curtly. She blinked, and looked at him quizzically. "You're-"

"American," Eames interrupted. "On loan to us, from Chicago." He smiled at her. "Would you be so kind?"

She swallowed. "Well, gentlemen, I do warn you that your presence might be quite disturbing to the inmates. A lot of them haven't seen a man, or been near one, for a long time. The women do get quite excitable."

Eames nodded. "Understood."

"I'm not sure you do, Sir." Her gaze was stern. "Please don't go near them. Don't try and touch them or try and excite them. Keep away from the bars on the doors, understood?"

Arthur nodded. "We will, Ma'am," ignoring Eames' smirk at his politeness.

Frowning, the Wardress began to move down the corridor. Eames and Arthur began to move, slowly and silently, after her.

* * *

Ariadne carefully adjusted her dress, smoothing the skirt with her hands. She'd changed into a light green muslim, which brought out the colour of her cheeks. Using her hands, she twisted her long dark curls up into a knot, and pinned them.

"I don't know why you're bothering," a voice interrupted. "You won't impress him."

Frowning, Ariadne turned. Selina, still clad in black, was watching her, balefully. The governess shook her head. "I'm not trying to impress him, I just want to look presentable."

"Well, good for you." Selina shrugged. "I need to go out, run some errands. If they want tea, you'll have to get it." She sniffed and began to head to the door. Ariadne's brow creased - she'd noticed that Selina's throat was visibly naked.

"Where are the pearls?"

"I didn't want them dropping in the food I just prepared," the housekeeper explained, raising an eyebrow. She was already wearing a coat, and in her hand, a wide brimmed black and white hat. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go."

Ariadne watched as she left, noting how the housekeeper pulled her great coat around her. Shrugging, she turned back to smoothing her own outfit, before preparing to go downstairs.

* * *

Arthur shivered as they walked down the narrow hallway. On either side was a row of doors, dank, metallic, and dreary. He shuddered as he heard the sounds - moans, low groans, and whispers. He could hear rattling, banging noises, scrapings, and at some points, bursts of maniacal laughter.

"Try not to listen," the wardress advised.

Arthur tried. But he couldn't. From the low moaning coming from a cell, to the whispered snickering of "look at those fine gentlemen - do you want the pretty one?" "I'd prefer the bigger one - he's a man!" he felt himself surrounded by human misery. On approaching one cell, he stopped, and looked through the bars.

On the floor was a young woman, curled up, and shaking. She was moaning, softly.

"Excuse me." Arthur gestured to the wardress. "Come here, please."

She frowned, and walked over, her skirt rustling on the dank, damp paving. "What is it?"

"This young woman...she's injured." Arthur was looking, horrified, at the curled up figure. "She's bleeding...look!"

The wardress peered in, and shrugged. "You're mistaken, Sir," she informed him, curtly. "She arrived with child - its simply a miscarriage."

"A miscarriage?!" Arthur was appalled. "But you can't leave her bleeding like that! She will die!"

"Sir." The wardress eyed him, coldly. "This inmate was brought to us for trying to procure an abortion. She tried to get rid of her own child. Nature has now taken its course."

"If she gets an infection, she will-" Arthur shook his head, angrily, noting the quickening steps of the wardress. Furious, he began to hurry after her and Eames.

"Oh, you need to understand how their minds work, Sir." She spoke rapidly, as though not wanting Arthur to contradict her. "In the hospital wing, we have women who have cut themselves with rusty knives, deliberately not eaten for weeks, tried to break their own bones. Anything to get away from the cells. Because they can't comprehend how they came to be punished." She shook her head. "We've had several girls like her come in - got themselves in trouble, tried to get rid of it, not realising they've committed a crime." She looked at Arthur. "She'll recover, Sir. And she'll serve her sentence, like the others."

Arthur was too shocked to even try and speak. Eames, his mouth twisting in sympathy, nodded. "Its how it works, Arthur."

"You must have girls who get themselves into this state in America, Sir." She was looking at him. "You look quite shocked."

"Well, maybe we do," Arthur retorted, his colour rising. "But I've never seen a young woman abandoned in a filthy cell, left to bleed to death. This is meant to be a civilised country, you should be-"

"Excuse me!" Eames grabbed Arthur by the arms, and firmly pushed him out of the way of the wardress, against the wall. "What are you doing?" he almost hissed.

"Eames, she's in pain-"

"Arthur, its not your place to say this! You're a guest of the Met, and you can't be like this!"

"Well, I think its wrong," Arthur said, shortly.

Eames frowned, and drew back. "Yes, but it happens." He spoke curtly. "Accept it."

Arthur, still frowning, swallowed. Eames began to release his clothing, and stepped back. The wardress looked at him, warily. "Are you finished?" she asked, curtly.

"Yes," Arthur said. "I apologise. I appreciate that I am a foreigner."

She nodded. "Well. Come. You need to meet the head Doctor, and I believe you came to see an inmate."

* * *

Ariadne paused outside the door. Raising her hand, she knocked, softly.

"Come in!"

She took a deep breath. Putting her hand on the door knob, she let herself in. Dominic Cobb was sitting by the fire, talking to another gentleman, quite a few years older. The two children, James and Phillippa, were sitting on the older gentleman's knees.

"Miss Hayes!" Cobb got up, and offered her his hands. "Thank you for coming. May I introduce my father in law, Mr Miles DeLaune?"

Ariadne swallowed, and offered her hand to the other gentleman. "Please to meet you."

"Enchanted," Miles replied, taking her hand. Phillippa squirmed on his lap, and he smiled. "Want to get down, Pip? So you shall."

"Please, take a seat," Cobb urged, and Ariadne complied. She looked at Miles. "What did you want to see me about?"

"Well," the older man began. "Mr Cobb has told me that you are his children's governess, but that you started a degree in Architecture, in Paris. Am I correct?"

She nodded. "I did. I had to give it up when my parents died. No-one could support me, I thought I'd come to London, try to find work."

Miles nodded. "I see." He leaned forward. "I'm impressed with your strength of character, Miss Hayes. And that's why I want to talk to you."

Ariadne fell silent, and listened.

"I've decided I want to set up a home - a boarding and educational house, for young women." Miles leaned forward, and picked up his Scotch. "Too many young women today are left poor and destitute, with no education. They go into service, and then problems can ensue." He took a sip of the amber liquid. "I want them to be educated, into realising, that they can do something."

"And you want me to educate them?"

"First, I want you to design it."

"Design it?"

"Yes." Miles leaned forward, letting James rest peacefully against his chest. "Think of the young women who have been disappearing. Its said that they're mostly prostitutes, toms. But how did they end up in that position? They were somebody's daughter. They deserved better."

"They do."

"So, will you help me?"

Ariadne nodded. "Of course."

* * *

"Yes?"

The wardress pushed open the door, letting the shaft of weak light fall on a middle aged man seated behind the desk. "Mr Kestler? The police are here."

Frowning, the man got up. "Welcome, gentleman. Please, both of you have a seat."

* * *

Selina shivered as the cab drew up. As she stood there, fingering the pearls, the door opened. Smiling, she entered.

"I see you dressed up for the occasion," a voice commented from the shadowy interior.

"I like people to see that I'm not destined to be a housekeeper," she retorted.

"Indeed. Perhaps a prison inmate?"

Selina bristled. "Look. It was never proven-"

"That he died unexpectedly in his sleep." The voice was softly mocking. "Miss Kyle, you are so naive. A young, rich, handsome man dies...and his latest tart suddenly flees the country."

"Look," Selina said, facing her opponent. "I will -"

"Proceed with the plan? I hope so. But just to remind you-" he reached out, and unhooked the pearls. "I'll take these, in lieu."

She smiled, sardonically. "Now, how do I explain the loss of his wife's pearls to Cobb? His safe was meant to be uncrackable."

"You'll think of something."

Selina nodded. "Yes. I will."

"Good. Now, hurry up and get out. My godson is expecting me."

* * *

"Right, gentlemen. Here is the inmate. The believe sole living victim of-"

"Of what?"

"He is known as-" the doctor lowered his voice - "its probably better I don't say."

Arthur swallowed. "I see." Turning, he began to follow the man into the small cell.

**Please review - it is appreciated!**

**A/N: The idea of a young woman being imprisoned for trying to have an abortion is shocking. But this did happen in the Victorian era - mainly to poor, unmarried girls. As for women injuring themselves in prison - yes, that happened too. Women were not treated well during this period, regardless of money and social class. **


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer**:** Inception does not belong to me. **

As the bell tinkled, the proprieter of the shop walked out into the main room. The bottles twinkled invitingly from their shelves, and he frowned, noticing a speck of dust. Smoothing his hair, he picked up the glasses swinging on a chain around his neck, and smiled at the young woman who had entered.

"How may I help you?" he asked politely.

His patron smiled at him, invitingly. Her dark eyes glittered.

"I need something for my husband," she said, smoothly. "He's not sleeping at the moment."

The chemist frowned, and balanced his glasses on his nose. "I am sorry to hear that. What is the cause of his insomnia?"

"Well, he's concerned about money," she said, her accent a gentle English lilt. "I just want him to sleep."

"Maybe this will help." Reaching for a glass bottle, he began to measure out a few spoonfuls of the potion. "It should help him relax."

"Thank you," she whispered, almost tearfully. "Dr-?"

"Yusuf," he said, kindly. "Dr. Yusuf. I only just opened my pharmacy here."

She nodded, appreciative of the man's kindness. "Thank you, Sir." Smiling, she accepted her package, and turned to leave.

* * *

Ariadne smiled as she left the drawing room. She felt more positive about her future, and her role in the household, than she had for some time. Suddenly, she felt as though she were needed, needed to be involved in an important project. She left the room and began to head downstairs, her mind awash with plans for the design of the new buildings.

* * *

Miles watched her leave. "She's lovely," he commented.

"She is, and before you ask, she doesn't suspect."

"Doesn't suspect that you're not a widower?"

"Yes." Cobb leaned back, and sighed sadly. "Its so much easier to tell her and the staff that Mal is gone, rather than the truth. Which is that she left."

"She may still come back," Miles reminded him, gently.

"No," Cobb shook his head. "I drove her away."

* * *

Arthur breathed, trying to calm himself as he looked at the woman lying on the poor excuse for a cot. She was moaning softly, but as he leaned closer, he frowned.

"What is it?" Eames asked, quietly.

"She's speaking in a foreign language." Arthur looked at Kester. "French."

The doctor scowled, his rotund form wobbling almost. "Well, Mr-"

"Detective," Arthur interrupted. "Detective Arthur Ogilvie."

"Detective," Kester repeated, almost mockingly. "You say she is speaking French - trust me, you have no idea how devious these women are."

"Devious?" Arthur raised an eyebrow.

"Detective, you are not used to our ways," the doctor said, a trifle patronisingly. "The women who come in here - they are not normal women. Not by any consideration."

"Excuse me?"

"What you're dealing with her, Sir, are deviants, and freaks." The doctor shook his head, sorrowfully. "These are women who rob, steal, and sell themselves - their very sex. They drink too much, they indulge in opium." He shuddered. "Women who would happily kill their own children -even before they're out of the womb."

"Really?" Arthur nodded, his temper rising. His three piece suit felt damp, and hot, causing his cheeks to flush.

"And then they start to disappear." Kester waved a fat hand in the direction of the writhing woman on the bed. "Whoever is killing these women, Detective, Inspector, maybe they should be grateful. After all, would you want to marry one of these? Have them in your bed, bearing your children, contaminating your bloodline? A man like you would be easy prey for them!"

"Would I?"

"Oh, you have no idea about women. You're so naive." The doctor sighed, looking with contempt at both Arthur, and his patient. "They'll encounter at society tea parties, flatter you, tell you how handsome you are. Next thing, you'll be engaged, and then married - only to find her giving way to hysteria and self-indulgence at the first opportunity-"

His words were broken off as Arthur grabbed his lapels, slamming him backwards into the wall. He choked. Eames, shocked, watched with his jaw dropping.

"You listen to me," Arthur practically spat. "Women are disappearing. Being mutilated. Dying. Or ending up here. And you prefer to see them suffer, than trying to help them?!"

"Its not my responsibility to fix what is naturally faulty!" Kester wheezed, wilting in the face of the younger man's athleticism. "Let go of me!"

Eames put his hands on Arthur's shoulders. "Come on," he said, softly. "We're wasting our time here."

Arthur looked at him. "I will come back."

"Oh," Kester said, his ice cool demeanour back in place. "I'm sure you will. Detective."

* * *

"How dare you! Eames shouted as they left the prison. "Now we're going to have to find other lines of inquiry, including talking to that inmate! You really are the most-"

"Save it," Arthur snapped, curtly. "I was not prepared to listen to that mysogynistic son of a-"

"Oh, stop the Boy Scout act," Eames sighed, exasperated. "Arthur, accept it. That's how things are. We can't change it."

"Eames." Arthur turned, and faced him. "There is a man out there, killing young women, and leaving them in a stinking hell hole like Millbank, and you think that-"

Suddenly, he stopped. Eames had leaned forward so their faces were almost touching.

"I think the way they treat those women is disgusting," Eames hissed. "And the behaviour of some of the Met, is worse. What do you think they're out doing every night, eh? Drinking, whoring, meeting prostitutes - who then end up dead in the river. This whole city is rotting, Arthur. You want to know whose killing these women? It could be anyone of those nice smiling police officers at the station, tipping their hat to the good little boy scout from America. It could be any of them."

Arthur was silent. Eames, satisfied he'd made his point, began to step back.

"Well, then we go back, and we start looking for connections, relating to the disappearances, and-" he stopped, abruptly, his gaze caught.

"What is it?" Eames asked, puzzled. He turned his head, and started to chuckle. "Oh, nice! Very nice!"

"Be quiet," Arthur commanded, starting to walk quickly. "She's hailing a cab. We need to follow her."

"Why?" Eames asked as they followed the attractive, dark haired woman. "Ex-girfriend? Ex-wife?!"

Arthur shook his head. "No. A suspect."

"For what?"

"Murder."

**Reviews are always welcome and appreciated, thank you! **


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. **

Selina smiled as she entered the cab, settling herself into the seat. As the door closed, and the horse began to move, she glanced out of the window. A slight shiver ran through her as she spotted two men - one almost leering with appreciation, the other almost hostile.

She frowned, and turned her head away, tilting her hat. As the cab rattled over the cobbles, she shut her eyes, trying to forget.

* * *

Arthur strode towards a cab, flagging one down. Eames, puzzled and slightly annoyed, followed him. "Who is that?"

Arthur shook his head. "Wait." As they entered a cab, and he slammed the door, he looked at Eames. Her name is Kyle. Selina Kyle. A con artist. And high society grifter. And it looks as though she's found some other poor rich victim to grab onto."

"Con artist?" Eames raised an eyebrow. "Do explain."

"She's something of an aspiring actress." Arthur smiled wryly. "A showgirl. Good at attracting fans - especially wealthy older men, with money. Like jewellery. Especially other people's that happens to be expensive."

"And you've followed her from Chicago?"

Arthur shrugged. "No. I spotted her. She disappeared after a mysterious death in the city, and she was linked to the victim - a very wealthy man. Young, and an orphan, and an only child. Suddenly, he hooks up with her. And then, shortly afterwards, he's dead."

Eames blinked. "How did he die?"

Arthur looked at the floor. "Apparently it was a simple house fire, but there are rumours he was in failing health. But here's the question - how does a man in his late 30s suddenly start developing a weak heart, with no obvious family background? And he also suffers from continual poor health, including colds and chest infections?"

"You tell me."

"Poison." Arthur swallowed, solemnly.

Eames began to laugh. "You're read too many Wilkie Collins novels." He started to chuckle. "The mysterious femme fatale - a poisoner, a dancer, a social climber-"

"It isn't a joke!" Arthur snapped. "Trust me, she is capable of a great deal. She -" he stopped. "Her cab's stopping."

Eames fell silent, waiting for Arthur to make a move. Grim faced, he began to unlatch the door, and started to walk out. Eames turned to follow him. "Wait here," he commanded, curtly. Selina was standing on the pavement, paying the driver. He tipped his hat, smiling broadly.

"Excuse me, Miss!"

She turned. If she was surprised to hear the crisp East Coast accent, she didn't blink. She frowned. "Yes, sir?"

"Police," Arthur said, swallowing. "I think I-"

"Yes?" she asked, her tone gentle. "What is it, Sir?"

"Well, I want to ask you a few questions." He frowned. "If I may."

She nodded. "Oh of course." She smiled at him. "Would you mind holding this?"

Arthur blinked, confused, as she handed him her hat. Suddenly, he felt a sharp blow to the jaw as her fist tore through the crown, slamming into him. He gasped, as her leg emerged from beneath her modest skirts, and kicked his leg, causing him to fall flat on the pavement.

Arthur, his head swimming, looked up. Selina leaned over, and snatched her hat. "Get some ice for that, sweetheart," she advised. Before he could move, she'd turned, and hurried down an alleyway. He blinked, beginning to sit up, astounded.

"Arthur?"

He turned, and felt a hand grab underneath his arm. "Here we go," Eames commented, helping to haul him to his feet. He stared, shocked, at the cerise and chartreuse bruise that was starting to form on Arthur's jawbone. "She-"

"Punched me. Hard." Arthur swallowed. "Come on. Let's follow her." Nodding, Eames turned to toss money at the driver.

* * *

Selina hurried down an alleyway, pausing briefly to rub her face, smearing her cosmetics. Reaching up to the collar of her dress, she pulled it, hard, hear the fabric tear. Kicking one of her boots, she dislodged the heel. Lifting her hand, she slapped her face, hard. Feeling the sting, she began to gather her skirts, hurrying. Turning down another alley, she disappeared into the rapidly rolling fog.

* * *

Ariadne swallowed as she seated herself in the back of the coach. Miles leaned forward, smiling.

"So, you're going into the centre of the city, and I'm heading to the station. Marlyebone." He knocked on the roof of the carriage with his cane, and it moved off, smoothly.

Ariadne leaned back in the seat, noticing out of the corner of her eye a man with a slightly frantic expression on his face. Frowning, she allowed the coach to continue carrying her.

* * *

Selina rang frantically at the door bell of the house, noting the shocked expression of the young footman who let her in. His eyes widened, taking in her tear stained, slightly ragged appearance.

"Miss Kyle!" he was shocked. "Are you-"

"What's going on?" Cobb demanded. The master of the house appeared in the hallway, approaching her, his facial expression horrified. "Miss Kyle! What happened?"

"Oh, Mr Cobb!" Selina gasped out, tears running down her cheeks. "I was robbed! Mugged! He tore my dress, tried to force me into an alleyway! No doubt he wanted to have his - have his way with me! Told me I looked like a common prostitute!"

Cobb put his hands on her arms. "There, there," he said, soothingly. "Are you hurt?"

"Oh, no, Sir," she said, breathlessly. "Just..." her eyes, large, tearful, and beseeching, looked at him. "Just so shocked that someone could be like that. So cruel, so callous, so base in thinking a respectable housekeeper is a common tart!"

Cobb shook his head, his lips tightening. "Disgusting. Could you describe this man to me?"

"Oh, yes," Selina said, breathlessly, noting how he was gripping her arms. "I would remember that face."

"Well, tell me after you've rested," Cobb said, kindly. "I'll order one of the maids to draw you a bath." He swallowed. "You're a valuable member of my household, Miss Kyle. I will make inquiries as to who the mugger was."

"Thank you, Sir."

"Oh, and later this evening, come and sit with me in the Drawing Room."

"Of course, Sir."

Cobb turned, walking back across the hallway. Trying to hide her triumphant smile, Selina began to move towards the stairwell.

* * *

As she entered the book shop, Ariadne swallowed. The majority of the patrons seemed to be either women with prams or small children in tow - she suspected they were mostly local nannies - or men. Resolving her courage, she walked to the shelves, and began to look at the Architecture section. Finding the book she wanted, she pulled it off the shelf. Turning, she headed towards the clerk, a dapper man in his early twenties. He smiled at her.

"Thank you." Taking the book, he began to examine it. "Very nice. A gift?"

"Well, no," Ariadne faltered. "Its for me."

The clerk raised his eyebrows, clearly astonished. Swallowing, she nodded. "Its for me."

The clerk frowned. "But..." he shook his head. "Education does strange things to a woman. Sends them insane, makes them barren-"

"Actually, I think you'll find that's a myth." A`clear, cool voice cut in. Ariadne turned. Standing next to her was a young man with thick black hair, and the most piercing blue eyes she'd ever seen. She swallowed, unsure of whether to thank him or not.

"Well," the clerk was flustered. "I-"

"I think women should be educated." The man was smiling coldly at the clerk. "I don't think women should purely spend their time thinking about how to attract a man, only to bore him to death once they've got him because that's all they think about."

Ariadne blinked.

"So, please allow me." The man reached for an expensive, leather bound wallet. "As you clearly don't think a young woman should buy books for herself...let me buy it, instead. And then it will be a gift. All right?"

The clerk, stunned, nodded. Soundlessly, he began to ring up the book, and wrapped it carefully. He handed it to the man.

"There you are. Mr..."

"Fischer," he said, coldly. Turning, he handed the book to a blushing, speechless Ariadne. He looked at her, and smiled. "Allow me to give you a lift."

"Oh, but I-"

He smiled. "Another time, perhaps." Tipping his hat, he began to leave the book shop.

* * *

"No sign."

Frustrated, Arthur bit his lip. They'd been hurrying round the alleys for over half an hour, and had gained no sight of Selina. Arthur nearly roared with annoyance. "She has to be somewhere!"

"Oh, she will be," Eames said, cheerfully. "But, if she's as good as you say, she'll know of lots of little alleys that she can hide in. Chances are she was hiding in one when we were standing on the pavement, gibbering."

Arthur glared. "And anything else you know?"

"Well, this whole city is a network. Criminals always know someone in a neighbourhood to give them shelter. She might have slipped in through a backdoor, or a window."

Arthur shook his head. "Eames. In another lifetime, you would make a wonderful crook."

"Indeed. And in another lifetime, you might make a half decent policeman. Now, back to the station." He looked at Arthur. "We'll leave Miss Kyle for another day. You have information you wanted to follow up, remember?"

Arthur nodded. "Yes. I do."

**I love reviews, if you could leave one it would be great, thank you!**


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer:** Inception does not belong to me. **

"So, what have you found?"

Arthur leaned back in his seat, the reading lamp casting a shadow on the page. "Nothing," he said, frustrated. He tapped the pencil on the side of the desk. "Just a mess of notes saying where the bodies were found."

"How many?"

"Five." Arthur looked at him. "And they were all found down by the river. With their throats slit, and symbols carved into their flesh."

Eames nodded. "Nice."

"No, it isn't." Arthur turned to him, suddenly angry. "Five young women have died - and you don't seem to have done anything!" he got up, suddenly agitated. "What do you and your boys do here? Sit all day in gin shops?!"

"Arthur!" Eames looked at him, eyes flashing dangerously. "Be careful! You're a guest here, remember!"

"Yeah, well, there's a lot of evidence here that none of you have even glanced at." He scowled. "For example, none of you have bothered to follow up where the victims' were in the hours preceding their deaths. None of you have bothered to see if there were any connections between them. All you've done is kept going down to the side of the Thames, and waiting. And it looks as though you'll all just sit here waiting for the killer to put his knife into another woman's back whilst we plod around politely!"

Eames' jaw dropped slightly. "And what do you suggest, then?"

"We go down to the Thames. And wait."

"When?"

"Tonight."

"Arthur!" Eames looked at him, slightly shocked. "We still need to find out what was happening in the prison!"

"Yes, well, apparently I've ruined that lead for you," Arthur retorted. "So we go and wait. Down by the river."

* * *

Selina leaned back in the scented water, a smile curving her lips.

She had already decided what she would tell Cobb. A story, about how she had been roughed up by an obnoxious little American. She reached for the soap, and began to carefully wash herself. How he had tried to grab at her, ripping her dress, calling her a common whore.

She knew he'd recognised her the minute he'd seen her. Knew that he'd gone round to his friends' house - his wealthy, influential friends' house - and found him lying there in his bed, not breathing. She bit her lip, sending a rush of blood to it. She hadn't meant to kill him...but it had helped in swiping the family jewels.

She scowled, her face darkening. His death was unfortunate. But he had loved her, she was sure of that. Would have married her. With no parents, no-one would have disapproved of her being a former showgirl.

She began to push herself out of the enamel tub, reaching for a robe. She pulled it round herself, tying at the waist. Slipping out of the room, she headed to her bedroom.

* * *

Robert Fischer entered his elegant townhouse, smiling. He walked to the drawing room, and rang a bell. After a few minutes, a maidservant appeared. "Sir?"

"Could you bring me some tea, please?"

"Of course, Sir." Curtseying, she left the room.

Robert sank back into the large, leather covered chair. He thought of the young woman he had met in the book shop, how blushingly she had accepted his gift. He smiled.

"Robert?"

He sighed with irritation. His godfather was standing in the room, frowning. Robert blinked. "What is it?"

"Where have you been this afternoon?"

"I was out. Walking."

"In this weather?" Browning looked at him, with consternation.

"Yes, in this weather." Robert looked at him, slightly irritated. "Its not too bad."

"This fog!" Browning waved his arm at the window. "But, we need to discuss why we're here."

Robert looked at him. "Yes?"

"You know I'm trying to make you a match! Find you a wife!"

"Uncle Peter-"

"Robert. You need heirs. Heirs to inherit your empire. And I have arranged for us to have dinner tonight, with a charming young woman who-"

"No."

"What?"

"I said no." Robert turned from his godfather, dismissively.

"But-"

"I'm not letting you choose my future wife. I think I may have already found her."

"What?" Browning was reddening, and beginning to look confused. "Where? How?"

Robert smirked. "In a book shop."

* * *

Ariadne decided to visit a tea room before heading back to the house. Settling herself in a tea room, she began to sit, watching London street life. Opening her book, she began to leaf through it, thinking about the exqusitely handsome man who had purchased it for her.

* * *

Cobb stood up as Selina entered the room. "Miss Kyle," he said, courteously, offering her his hand.

She took it, graciously. "Mr Cobb."

"Please, have a seat," he insisted. As she sank down into it, she noticed that a tray, complete with coffee pot, cups, and sandwiches, was placed in between them. She reached over, intending to take the pot and pour.

He placed his hand on hers. "No, let me."

Sitting back, she smiled graciously. Cobb picked up the pot. "So why don't you tell me what happened...Selina."

Pretending to look slightly shocked at this gesture of intimacy, Selina composed herself, and began.

* * *

Arthur glanced up at the darkening sky, shivering in his greatcoat. The sky was transforming from a soft grey to indigo and deep blue, and he could see stars.

"You allright?"

Arthur nodded. "Yes. Better stand over here-" he pointed. "That way, we can see anyone approach."

Eames began to walk across. "All right?"

"Perfect."

* * *

Ariadne bit her lip. She had waited on the street for nearly twenty minutes, and not a single cab had stopped. They had either looked at her disdainfully, or shaken their heads, already full.

She swallowed. The afternoon was beginning to turn into evening. She estimated she was easily two miles from Cobb's townhouse- a walk that could take up to an hour. But, she reasoned, she had no other choice. Picking up her skirts, her book wedged under her arm, she began to walk towards the river.

**All reviews appreciated, thank you! I like to know who is following this!**


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer:** Inception does not belong to me. **

Arthur shivered as he stood in the cold, damp, fog. Eames was standing next to him, and tutted.

"What?" Arthur asked, turning round.

"You're attracting attention," Eames admonished. "We need to be as quiet as possible. Come on, stand back here."

Arthur watched as Eames stepped into the shadows, and then followed. As the darkness shrouded them, he realised that Eames was correct - he had been too visible.

"Good," Eames said, nodding. "That's perfect."

Arthur exhaled slowly. The night was beginning to darken, and cool air was beginning to creep round. He turned, watching as the stately city began to bedeck herself with the twinkle of gaslights, cutting through the encroaching fog.

"Magnificent," he murmured.

"To a point," Eames mused. "But that's the best side. Down in certain streets - you have the desperate, the robbers, the cut-throats-"

"Anyone else?"

"Plenty." Eames nodded. "What we're doing here-we are trying to prevent one killer. But if we take him off the streets-"

"What?" Arthur turned to him, frowning. "What are you trying to say, Eames?"

"If we take him off the streets, someone else will come along and take his place." Arthur frowned - he could have sworn he saw a look of sadness on the normally jovial man's face. "There will always be victims for a killer here in London."

"Then maybe you should do something about it," Arthur muttered. He looked at Eames. "Don't try and make out that people are condemned to their fate. You can always-"

Eames shook his head. "American idealism." Sighing, he stepped back into the shadows. Biting back an angry retort, Arthur waited.

* * *

"Miss Kyle", Cobb spoke, gently.

"Mr Cobb?"

"You said you were mugged..." his face was creasing in concern. "You also mentioned you knew the mugger?"

Selina burst into tears. "Oh, that man!"

Shocked, Cobb leaned over, offering her a handkerchief. "Please, don't distress yourself. Tell me what happened."

Snuffling, Selina gratefully accepted the handkerchief offered. "Thank you, but a brute like that is not worth the trouble!" she swallowed.

"If he's a brute, he is," Cobb said, gravely. "Can you give me a description?"

She nodded, dabbing her eyes with a theatrical flourish. "Scrawny," she said, nodding. "Dark. Like a rat." She shuddered, and noted how Cobb's face deepened in sympathetic lines. "In a cheap suit." She shook her head. "Not good quality, like the ones you wear, Mr Cobb."

"You said he tried to touch you?"

She swallowed, deciding that she had to be careful. If she was too free with her embellishments, there was a possibility that he would not let her out of the house again by herself. She decided to be as simple as possible.

"He came running up to me," she said, her expression pained. "I was waiting for a cab - the can I had been in had had to stop, as the horse had gone lame." She looked at Cobb, beseechingly. "I felt so sorry for the poor horse!"

"What did he say?" Cobb asked. Selina detected a note of impatience in his voice, and blinked, tears suddenly coming to her eyes.

It worked. Cobb's slightly impatient expression softened immediately. "I'm sorry. This is distressing for you." He swallowed.

"He asked if I knew the way to Whitechapel," she said, nodding, as though remembering. "I said I was not sure. Then he said - he said-"

"What did he say?"

"He told me I could give him some money for a cab." She bit her lip. "I told him I only had money for myself. So then, he said-"

Cobb leaned forward.

"He said 'so why don't you give me a ride, without the cab?'" She blinked, and tears began to fall freely, spotting the neat black linen of her skirt.

Cobb looked furious. "He said..."

"Yes!" she almost shouted, but remembering to keep her voice controlled. "As though I were a common prostitute!" she dabbed at her eyes again.

"That is appalling." Cobb's lips were a thin line. "I will inform the police."

She smiled, mistily through her remaining tears. "Thank you, Mr Cobb." She smiled at him. "Thank you so much."

"Its my pleasure," he said, courteously. "But, I do have something to ask you."

"So..." Selina played with the folds of her skirt. Cobb smiled. "So...Miss Kyle?"

"Yes?" she immediately picked her head up.

"Would you consider accompanying me to the theatre next week?"

Selina could barely suppress a smile. "Of course, Sir."

"I dearly want a companion, and you..." his voice faltered. "You would be perfect."

Selina began to stand up. "Thank you, Sir."

He nodded, and rising, reached for her hand. As their fingers touched, she immediately lowered her eyes, hoping to convince of innocent sweetness.

"I must go," she said, softly.

"Of course."

As she turned and started to leave, he called after her.

"Miss Kyle!"

"Yes?"

"You said the man who attacked you was an American?"

"Yes," she said, frowning.

"Is there anything else?"

"Well..." she swallowed, then shook her head. "He claimed he was a detective."

"A detective?" Cobb's eyebrows raised.

"Yes." She nodded, solemnly. "A detective. He said to me, 'no-one will believe you, because I'm from the police!'"

Cobb frowned, deep lines etching into his forehead. "We'll see about that." Bending over, he kissed her hand, causing a flush of pleasure to rise to Selina's pale cheeks.

* * *

Ariadne swallowed, and stepped out, gingerly. The path was muddy, and she was beginning to wonder how long it would take her to walk. She had a sneaking suspicion that the journey looked deceptively short from the comfort of a cab.

She sighed. She needed to get back, as the children would no doubt be wondering where she was. And, she thought with a subtle tinge of panic, Selina would no doubt be trying to persuade Cobb this was a clear indication of how reckless Ariadne was.

She began to hurry, not noticing her hem starting to drag in the mud.

* * *

Selina hurried downstairs to the kitchen, smiling with satisfaction. The master of the house was completely under her spell. Smoothing her black dress down, she looked round the kitchen. The cook was standing silently at the stove, stirring a large pot.

Selina nodded, and headed into the pantry. The sooner a boy scout like Arthur Ogilvie was shipped back the States the better. She swallowed, remembering how he had blocked her exit from Chicago, appearing at the end of the gangway as she'd walked towards the boat. Flashing his police badge, and a triumphant smile. She felt herself prickle with hatred.

She reached for the flour, and bit her lip. She hadn't meant for the millionaire to die. She'd merely been a companion, although she'd bristled at the implication that a millionaire could not be happy with a showgirl. But she'd made him laugh - more than the society princesses he was expected to consort with.

She felt her hand waver slightly. She had loved him. Although, he hadn't known that. But Arthur...she felt her eyes narrow. Thankfully, she knew how to break out of so-called correctional units. Faking insanity and hysteria was easy for an actress. And the staff had been unable to contain her.

_Just you wait, Detective Ogilvie. Just you wait. _

* * *

Ariadne hurried. The bridge was fast approaching. She bit her lip, feeling her nervousness grow. She was aware she was venturing into the dangerous part of London, the part where-

"Oh!" she gasped.

Turning, she blinked. A man, nearly toothless and filthy dirty, was holding her arm. He leered at her, shocking her into silence. "Spare some money?" he asked, his breath reeking of alcohol.

"I-" she swallowed, and began to twist her arm. "I-"

"Come on," he coaxed. "Please?"

"No!" she gave her arm a pull, hearing the material of her sleeve start to rip.

* * *

Arthur frowned. "What's going on up there?"

"What?" Eames blinked. "What is it?"

Arthur nodded in the direction of the bridge. "I heard something. Come on!"

* * *

"Please..." Ariadne began to try and pull away more sharply. "Please, let me go!"

"Can't give me money?" the vagrant's eyes were furious.

"Please!"

"I'll take something else then!" to her shock, he began to push her against the wall. "You society girls have never got money...but you've got something else!"

Ariadne could hardly breathe. Suddenly, her anger overtook her, and she slapped the man sharply round the face. His response was to land a blow that left her gasping in shock.

Before she could move again, she felt her back suddenly press up against the cold grit of the stone wall. She sucked in her breath as his hand moved too close to her bodice.

Suddenly, she saw a fist land a punch to the side of the vagrant's face causing him to release her and stagger. Another punch, and he was lying on the floor.

"Are you allright, Miss?"

She blinked. Staring at her was a man with concern on his face. "I'm fine," she said, nodding.

"Well, I'd like to see you home," he said, solemnly. "Its dangerous out here."

"If you insist," she said, blushing slightly.

"I do."

"Arthur!" an annoyed voice cut through the still night air. "Where are you going?"

Arthur turned and frowned at Eames. "I need to see this young lady home."

"Oh!" Eames panted as he ran up. "Oh, I see!" he gave Arthur a sly grin. "I'll just stay here by myself then?"

Arthur swallowed, suddenly furious with the louche attitude of the man and of the fact a young woman could be so easily attacked. "Do what you like," he said, curtly. Offering his arm to Ariadne, they began to walk back down the river side.

**Thank you for reading, please review!**


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer:** Inception does not belong to me. **

Ariadne shivered slightly as the handsome young detective offered her his arm. Swallowing, she slipped hers through it, and they began to walk.

"Where do you live?" he asked, kindly.

"Um...near Bank," she said, her voice slightly stilted from shock. "Its far."

Arthur nodded. "It is. Come on."

As they walked away, Eames shook his head, smiling. Turning, he decided to head in the opposite direction.

* * *

"In you go," Arthur said, smiling, as he helped her inside.

She turned to him, before he shut the carriage door. "Will you come with me? My employer..." her voice trailed off, and Arthur nodded. He swung himself up inside, and smiled at her.

"Of course." He motioned for the cab driver to move. As the horses started to pull the carriage, he swallowed, and turned to her. She was still pale, and her hands were shaking, but a quick glance had revealed that she was not injured.

"I'm a governess," she babbled, anxiously. "I'm worried that if I'm out late, my employer might think I'm bringing his house into..."

Arthur shook his head. "Don't worry, I'll explain."

"They're a respectable family, and if he thinks I've been out..."

Arthur frowned. She seemed unecessarily anxious. "It will be fine," he promised. "Please, trust me."

* * *

Selina sat at the vanity table in her bedroom, brushing her hair. She frowned as she noticed the empty space at her throat - the disappearance of the pearls had wounded her. She shook her head. If everything went according to plan, she would soon have more pearls to replace them.

Swallowing, she put the brush down, and pulled a drawer out of the mahogany finished unit. It revealed a small white box, which she carefully opened. Pulling out several newspaper cuttings, she bit her lip.

The first was of her first performance, in a small play, in New York. She'd argued her way into the production, dazzling the theatre director by displaying her legs - and being the only actress brave enough to do so. It had been small, but walking onstage every night for those two weeks, she'd felt she'd belonged. Until poor ticket sales had forced closure, and she had been told that her services were no longer required.

Frustrated, she'd looked for more acting work, but only found a job as a chorus dancer. Forced into small, miserable lodgings, she'd dreamed of escape.

Until, one evening, she'd noticed a man sitting in the club, at a table alone. As she danced, she'd also noticed the way his eyes tracked her. As the performance had finished, she'd retreated to the cramped, noisy dressing room. As she was removing her stage make up, a delivery boy suddenly appeared to the squeals of the other dancers.

She looked up. "Yes?"

The boy stammered nervously. "For you."

Frowning, she took the single red rose. Attached to it was a note. _"For you. Table 5."_

Selina had blinked, slightly stunned. This kind of gentlemanly courtesy was something new. She frowned, remembering how she'd watched her mother repeatedly beaten by a man in an alcohol soaked stupor. The mind numbing violence had forced her to leave her home town in Pennsylvania, and seek her fortune in the big city, the bright lights of New York. Eking out a living, talking her way into theatres, had not been easy.

But theft had.

It was all too easy to sidle up to a rich man after a performance, or in a crowded bar, and charm him. Even easier to leave with his wallet in her hand, or a gold watch. They would never know, and would never suspect that the attractive, well dressed young woman who had sweet talked her way into their lives for an hour was responsible.

But this was different. He was showing her respect. Something that, due to her upbringing, she never expected from men.

She approached the theatre manager before she left. "David?"

He'd looked up. "Yes, Selina?"

"The man at table 5..." she swallowed, and cleared her throat. "Who was he?"

"Oh!" David frowned, and hunched over his ledge. "Some rich guy from Chicago. In town for the night."

"Really?" Selina raised her eyebrows, but felt her hopes were slightly crushed. "Thanks."

She left for the night. But the following, as she prepared to go on stage, there was a knock on the dressing room door. Frowning, she gestured to one of the other dancers to open it.

"Its a note," the young woman, Jen, announced. "For you."

Frowning, Selina opened it. Her eyes widened as she read the contents.

_"Meet me after the show. Table 5."_

She barely remembered the night's performance. All she knew was that after dressing and re-applying her make up, she had walked to table 5.

Her eyes had widened in surprise when she arrived. A handsome man in an expensive looking suit was waiting for her. She'd smiled, coquettishly.

"Well, Miss Kyle," he'd said, gently. "Shall we walk?"

She blinked, and rubbed her eyes, annoyed to suddenly find tears forming. He'd been wonderful - kind, considerate, gentle. He'd explained that he was in New York on business, but would have to return to Chicago.

And, would she consider returning with him?

Selina had hesitated. Returning with this stranger could be foolish, and dangerous.

"Well, Mr Wayne," she'd said, smiling. "Why not?"

It had been perfect. The handsome bachelor had returned to Chicago with a beautiful young woman, and Selina had buried her past. No-one would ever guess, as she rode through the city streets in expensive floor sweeping gowns and gorgeous hats, that she was a former failed actress, chorus girl, and petty thief. She was accepted.

"Oh, I went to Brown," was her rehearsed line at Society parties. "I wanted to be a teacher." An acceptable career, she decided. And to her surprise, the smiling young women at the parties she attended had believed her.

It had been perfect. Until Arthur Ogilvie had appeared.

Selina felt her face darken as she remembered seeing the detective. A sour expression had drawn an otherwise attractive face into harsh lines, and, she thought with disdain, he was too thin. Thin, and cold. She remembered his expression of utter disdain on his face as he'd interviewed her.

"Miss Kyle," he said, coldly, facing her. "Why don't you explain to me again."

"Explain what?" she'd retorted, her voice clipped.

"How Mr Wayne was mugged on his way home from a business function."

She'd leaned forward. "I don't know, Detective. I wasn't there."

"Right, Miss Kyle." He'd smiled at her, one that had reminded her of a shark. "But you do have a past-"

She'd stood up. "I refuse to listen to these insults," she'd responded, haughtily. "I have to leave." He'd watched as she'd left the room.

She shuddered. A few weeks later, Ogilvie was one of the first to the expensive house Wayne had begun sharing with her, finding the body of the young millionaire in the bedroom. She had already left, buying a one-way ticket to London.

Selina swallowed and replaced the box into the drawer. She could not dwell on the past -she had something new to strive for. She began to get up, and walked out of her room and onto the main hallway.

Suddenly, she stiffened. A very distinctive voice, one that she remembered, floated up from the hallway.

"I'm sorry to bother you Sir - but I thought I should escort Miss Hamilton home."

"Oh, of course. Thank you." Cobb's voice, melodious in comparison to Arthur's clipped vowels, was a stark contrast. She leaned over the bannister, and looked.

* * *

Cobb smiled graciously at Arthur. "Will you join us for some tea?"

"Oh, I-" Arthur paused. "I'd be delighted," he said swallowing. Ariadne smiled at him, and he nodded.

"Excellent." Cobb gestured to a footman, who bowed. "Please, this way."

Arthur swallowed, taken aback by Cobb's warmth. Smiling, he looked up - and his face froze.

Selina Kyle, her face contorted into a mask of pure hatred, was staring back down at him.

**All readers appreciated, and I'd love some reviews, thank you!**


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer:** Inception does not belong to me. **

"So, tell me about yourself, Arthur." Cobb leaned back in a chair, nodding to the young maid who brought in tea on a silver tray. "What brings you to London."

"Well, I've been transferred," Arthur said, carefully. "From Chicago."

"Interesting." Cobb leaned forward, and reached for a cup of the steaming hot, fragrant liquid. "I have a factory outlet in that city."

Arthur nodded, feeling clumsy as the delicate china was placed in his hands. "I see."

"I like Chicago," Cobb said, conversationally. "Its a wonderful place. I- Selina!" he said, smiling as the housekeeper entered. "I'm glad you've joined us, please, take a seat."

Selina sat down with exaggerated delicacy - a trick, Arthur thought, she'd no doubt learnt in her training as a dancer. Smiling graciously, she reached forward, and lifted the tea pot. "More tea Officer?" she asked politely. As she looked at Arthur, he saw an ominous flash in her eyes.

"I, uh, haven't finished this one yet. But thank you," he responded, his mind whirling.

"You know, Detective, you look very familiar." Selina smiled, and leaned back in her chair. "Have we met?"

Arthur looked at her. She was toying with a lock of hair that had come loose from its pinnings. Her lips were outlined in scarlet lip paint. _Like a wound, _he thought grimly. He shuddered, remembering the horror he'd felt when he'd walked into Wayne's bedroom, only to find the older man lying face down on the bed, clearly -

"I don't think so," he replied with characteristic politeness, trying to rebuff her. She merely smiled again. It reminded Arthur of a shark.

"You see, I used to be a dancer." Her eyes flicked around the assembled company. Ariadne was shifting in her chair; Cobb was smiling, almost indulgently. "I used to dance at theatres. Are you sure you never went to any?"

Arthur shook his head, feeling himself almost stiffen. "No, I'm sure I didn't."

"Shame. You have a very familiar face." Selina put down her tea cup, and began to rise.

"Detective." Cobb was smiling generously. "Would you care to join us for dinner?"

Arthur bit his lip. "I uh-"

"Please, I insist." Cobb's voice was firm. "I have to thank you for ensuring my governess got home safely."

Arthur swallowed. He was acutely aware of Selina turning, her facial expression unreadable. "Well, I-"

"Please." It was an insistence, and one that Arthur realised he could not refuse. Nodding, he consented. "Of course."

"Wonderful!" Cobb was smiling, a smile of genuine warmth. Looking at him, Arthur could see why Ariadne trusted this man. "Selina, that will be all right, won't it?"

"Oh, of course Mr Cobb," she cooed, her voice silky. "I'll let Cook know."

Cobb's facial features relaxed into a smile, illuminating to Arthur how Selina had latched onto him. Turning, he raised his head and looked at the housekeeper. Almost scowling, she began to walk away.

Arthur exhaled slowly. Dinner would be an ordeal. "Please excuse me," he said hastily, getting up. He began to walk after the housekeeper, aware that both Cobb and Ariadne were looking at him, curiously.

In the hallway, he spoke. "Miss Kyle?"

She turned, her eyebrows raised. "Mr Ogilvie. Detective Ogilvie." She smiled. "So nice to see you again...especially as last time I was rather...ungroomed."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "You were naked."

She tilted her head. "Now. You don't want our resident drab little governess to overhear that, do you?" She smirked. "I seem to remember you were rather shocked when you saw me."

"I was shocked when I saw Bruce Wayne's body." The quietness of Arthur's tone underlined his vehemence. "He and I were friends, remember?"

"Yes. Such good friends. He dug you out of a hole, when you were accused of corruption." She smiled again. "No wonder you were upset about his death. No-one to help you out anymore?"

"I was cleared." Arthur looked at her calmly. "It was a set up."

"Really? By whom?"

Arthur shook his head. "No-one you know."

"But, why are you in London? To find me?"

Arthur looked at her. "No. Finding you is just a lucky coincidence. And I should arrest you right now."

She took a step forward. "What for?"

"Murder." His voice was soft. "Murder of Bruce Wayne."

Her eyes flickered, and suddenly, he saw fear. "You're really sure?" she asked softly, hesitantly. Arthur nodded. "I'm sure."

"Well, in that case, go ahead." Her eyes flashed dangerously.

"Not here" he whispered.

"All right. The how about you meet me later? At the King's Head taven? Its down in Whitechapel. I'll tell you everything, I promise. At about 10 o' clock."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yes. But come on. Its nearly seven. You're still too thin, detective. And too angry." She smiled. "I'm going to make sure you eat properly tonight. You'll thank me, I promise."

Arthur stared after her, his jaw dropping. Almost silently, she was gone.

* * *

Eames smiled appreciatively as a tankard of beer was placed in front of him. The young woman looked at him, suggestively. "On your own?"

"Maybe," he replied, with a wink that caused her to blush. He looked at the foaming brew with pleasure, then began to lift it to his mouth.

He sighed. Arthur leaving had caused him to abandon the investigation, he thought with annoyance. He shook his head, staring into the amber liquid. The American was proving to be something of a liability, he thought, tiredly. He didn't think he could-

Suddenly, an ear piercing scream echoed through the street. Slamming his beer down with such force it spilled, he began to run out onto the street. Frantically, he began to look round.

Suddenly, he heard a shout. Moving in the direction of the voices, he noticed a small crow gathering near an alleyway. A grim sensation forming in his stomach, he took a deep breath. "Move away!" he shouted. "Police!"

As he moved closer, he felt his stomach lurch. Turning his head, he noticed a figure suddenly slipping away into the shadows. Furious, he began to run after him.

* * *

"Arthur?"

He blinked. Ariadne was standing next to him, looking at him curiously. "Are you allright?"

"Yes, fine." He smiled awkwardly. "Everything's fine."

"Good." She nodded. "Because its time for dinner."

Arthur swallowed, feeling a lump in his throat was forming. His mind was circling over the various leads he'd found - the woman in the prison; discovering Selina; and Eames.

_Eames!_

__He blinked, suddenly feeling a needle of fear for his partner. Smiling fixedly, he began to follow Ariadne into the dining room."

**Please review - it is appreciated!** **Thank you for reading this fic!**


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer:** Inception does not belong to me. **

"Wait!"

Eames enraged bellow drew startled gasps as he began to run after the attacker. People began to draw back, almost fearful, as the furious looking man chased after his opponent. He moved quickly, muttering apologies to those he accidentally knocked as he ran. He cast a quick glance back at the woman lying on the pavement, a concerned group already forming a solid wall around her.

The killer was fast, and he realised, had a planned route. Suddenly, he disappeared. Startled, Eames stood, gasping on the pavement. Two alleyways were directly in front of him, both offering an opportunity to find the man he wanted.

Taking a moment to decide, he hesitated. Swallowing, he ran down the first.

* * *

"Please have some more, Arthur." He blinked, and looked up. Selina Kyle was smiling at him, her eyes almost narrowed. He shuddered, feeling the soup he'd swallowed burn in his throat.

"No thank you, I've had plenty." He was perfectly polite, but he saw something flash in her dark eyes. She smiled, and nodded. "Of course. We still have two more courses to go!"

Cobb turned and smiled appreciatively at Selina. "Selina is the best housekeeper I've had," he commented, stirring his soup with his spoon. "I can rely upon her completely to organise the house and provide everything we need."

Arthur nodded. "I'm sure."

"Tell us about yourself, Arthur," Selina cooed, the sweetness of her voice undercut by the darkness of her eyes. "Do you have a wife? Anyone special?"

"No," Arthur replied calmly, looking at her directly. "I do not."

"Well, that's a surprise." Selina raised her eyebrows, as if shocked. "I would have thought a handsome man like you would have been married by now!"

Arthur shook his head. "Its hard when you're a cop," he mumbled, "you have no time."

"No wonder you're so thin...and sullen." Selina purred. "Its not attractive, Arthur."

Cobb coughed politely. "Miss Kyle, I'm sure Arthur has his reasons-"

"I'm sorry," Arthur said abruptly, standing up. "But I think I ought to leave. I have duties I need to perform. I don't want to outstay my welcome, Mr Cobb. But thank you, for your hospitality."

"You're perfectly welcome," Cobb said, kindly. "Please, sit down, at least stay for the next course."

Swallowing, Arthur re-seated himself. Selina's eyes flicked over him. She began to get up. "I'll tell the servants to bring in the next course," she said, calmly. Cobb nodded.

"Ariadne?"

"Yes? she replied, flustered.

"Are you allright?"

"Yes, fine." She looked at Arthur, her facial expression concerned. "I'm fine, Mr Cobb."

Selina was walking towards the door. Arthur got up.

"I'm terribly sorry, but I-" he swallowed, and looked at Cobb. "I really need to go."

Cobb frowned. "Well, Arthur, if you feel that way."

"I do. Please accept my apologies Sir." He nodded to Ariadne. "Good night."

Before either could continue to protest, he turned and hurried out of the room. Selina was watching from the doorway, and proceeded to walk over, grabbing his arm. "Not so fast, handsome."

"Let go of me," he huffed.

"Don't forget our little rendezvous, ok?" She leaned forward, her lips tickling Arthur's skin. "I'll be waiting for you, I promise."

"I won't forget. 10pm. Whitechapel." He nodded. As he began to leave, Selina pulled him towards her, and kissed him, hard. He blinked, a wave of revulsion overcoming him.

"What was that-?" he breathed, a feeling of repugnance stirring deep inside him.

She looked at him, smiling.

"For tax."

Stunned, he watched as she turned on her heel, and walked towards the kitchen.

* * *

Eames followed the attacker. He heard the swish of the man's cloak, and paused, waiting close by the wall.

"I know you're there!" he cried, hoarsely. "I know you-"

Suddenly, he felt an excrutiating pain reverberate through the side of his skull. Choking, he slumped to the ground, his eyes closing, seeing nothing.

**All reviews appreciated, thank you!**


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: **Inception does not belong to me.**

Arthur swallowed as he began to approach the public house. Glancing around cautiously, he realised with relief that he could not see anyone he knew. As he entered, the stale, sweat soaked smell made him recoil slightly. Grimacing, he approached the bar. A man stood behind it, his face tired and features weathered. He gave Arthur barely a glance before speaking.

"Yes?"

The detective swallowed. "A pint of beer, please." His accent was crisp, and he noticed several of the other patrons beginning to nudge each other. He took the pint – noting with slight disdain that the glass was greasy – and walked to to an empty table.

As he sat down, he glanced around his surroundings. This particular public house was slightly cleaner and better kept than the one Eames had first taken him to, but there was still a sense of desperation cloaking the patrons. Two men sat in the corner, playing cards. A couple of women – their faces so brightly painted they reminded him of exotic birds – were hanging off an old piano, on which a remorseless tune was being thumped out by an elderly musician.

He sighed and picked up the pint. Taking a sip, his thoughts drifted. He was remembering another time, another place. A young woman he'd been very fond of, even, he admitted, in love with. Except that her father felt that a beat cop wasn't a good enough match. He grimaced, an not from the sour taste of the beer.

He rubbed his face, feeling slightly mournful. Ultimately, she had bowed to her father's expectations, and married a lawyer. He shrugged, picking the glass up again.

But...Ariadne. His features softened as he remembered her. He badly wanted to see her again, but he also felt that her employer was slowly trying to ensnare her. He swallowed, and put the glass down on the table.

Suddenly, the door opened, and a slight rippled went through the assembled patrons. A woman, in a stylish dress with a broad rimmed hat masking her face, had entered. She walked straight over to Arthur, carefully removing her hat, and laying it on the table. Her skirts rustled as she crossed her legs, carefully drawing them up and off the dusty floor.

Leaning forward, she smiled at Arthur. "Such a shame you didn't stay for dessert." She raised her eyebrows. "Mr Cobb was so disappointed. So was Ariadne." Her eyes flashed.

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "Leave her alone, Selina. I mean it."

Selina nodded, her eyes mocking. "She is pure and incorruptible, isn't she?" She shook her head, seemingly unaware of how she was drawing attention from the men in the bar. "But that's not what we came here to talk about...Detective." She raised an eyebrow. "Now remind me. What happened in Chicago?"

Arthur swallowed, and wrapped his fingers around the glass. "You know what happened." His voice was slightly hoarse. "A good friend of mine died."

Selina nodded. "Yes. And he was a good friend of mine, too." She shook her head. "Oh, I don't seem to have a drink, yet. Detective, would you be so obliging?"

Arthur smiled sardonically. "Do I have a choice?" Getting up, he began to move towards the bar.

* * *

Eames was in darkness. Swimming in it. He could hear indistinct shapes, muffled sounds, but nothing else. Gentle touches pressed against his skin, voices murmured. He tried to blink, call out, but nothing. The darkness rose up, and swallowed him again.

"Why, thank you." Selina purred. She accepted the glass of wine Arthur offered, and raised it. "A toast," she said, appreciatively, taking a sip.

"A toast to what?" Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Aside from the fact that a master thief and suspected poisoner of someone made it over to England." He leaned in. "The ground is shrinking beneath your feet, Miss Kyle."

"Don't patronise me, Arthur." She put the glass down. "Let me remind you of something. How much money did Bruce pay the Police Commissioner to bail you out of that corruption charge?"

Arthur blanched. "He told you?!"

"Oh, no," she purred, picking up her glass. "Bruce never told me a thing. Its just that as you say, I am a master thief. And secrets can be stolen as easily as jewels." She looked at him. "The golden boy of Chicago's PD suddenly under suspicion of embezzlement. Would you care to comment?"

Arthur swallowed. "I was set up," he said, hoarsely. "Bruce knew that. He knew I would never take money by fraudulent means." He took a sip of beer. "He wanted to help."

"He wanted to alleviate his guilt."

Arthur looked at her, his eyes widening. "What was that?"

"Arthur." Selina leaned back, her eyebrows raised. "You are very naïve. Bruce set you up."

Arthur felt the colour drain from his face. "You're lying, Selina. I know you're a liar...remember?"

"Yes, Arthur, you know I'm a liar. You know I'm a liar when it comes to heisting jewels from such rich society wife who would never miss them...until I became one myself." She leaned back. "But I would never lie over something like this. Bruce set you up. He planted the embezzled money, and then linked it to you."

Arthur realised his hand was shaking. He felt a stir of repulsion, and realised he needed to get away from her. "Bruce wouldn't..."

"Maybe he would." Selina looked at him. "Oh, Arthur...you've gone so pale. Are you all right?"

He swallowed, suddenly feeling himself breaking out in a sweat. "I-"

"Come on," she said, gently, getting up. "Maybe you need some fresh air."

Arthur nodded, weakly. "Maybe I do."

* * *

"Where was he found?"

"In an alleyway."

The doctor nodded. The hospital – quiet, shrouded, and dignified as befitted an establishment of the Church – had received the bloodied, unconscious man. "He will be allright." The doctor looked at him. "Sharp blow to the head, but he will recover."

* * *

"Ariadne?"

She blinked. Cobb was looking at her, frowning. "What is it, Sir?"

"Are you allright?" he asked, courteously. She swallowed, and nodded. "Of course."

"Well, you don't seem to be." He frowned. "Is it that young detective?"

She swallowed. "I was surprised he left abruptly, that's all."

Cobb nodded. "I could swear he and Selina know each other."

Ariadne felt her heart sink. She bit her lip, and bowed her head. "Goodnight Sir." Quickly, before he could speak, she hurried out of the room.

* * *

Arthur choked slightly as Selina led him out of the gin house. She smiled ingratiatingly at the man behind the bar. "A little too much to drink," she said, by way of explanation. As they walked outside, the cold air hit Arthur like a punch.

Selina proceeded to walk him further down Whitechapel, increasingly away from the noise and bustle of the city at night. They continued to walk, Arthur beginning to gasp.

She looked at him. "Are you allright, Arthur?"

He looked at her, his eyes widening with horror. "You...poisoned me..."

"No, Arthur." She shook her head, soothingly. "Its not poison you need to fear. Its water. Its drowning. You ruined my life. You want to know how Bruce died? It was suicide, Arthur. He killed himself. He killed himself when you told him about my past. Remember that? He couldn't live with the shame. He bought the dosage, and he took it. I came home to find him dead in our bed. And all because of a sanctimonious, preachy, over-grown boy scout, like you!"

Arthur blinked . "You're lying."

"Am I?" Selina raised an eyebrow. "No. I'm telling the truth. Goodnight, Detective." With a sudden, swift kick, she sent him toppling into the swollen flow of the Thames.

* * *

**All reviews appreciated, thank you!**


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer:** Inception does not belong to me. **

"Sir? Can you hear me?"

Eames blinked, his eyes shifting and adjusting to focus. With difficulty. The bright lights were painful.

"I-" he began.

The kindly face that had hoved into view broke into a smile. "Are you awake?"

Eames nodded, wincing. His neck felt sore and stiff. Closing his eyes again, he fell back into sleep.

* * *

Selina hurried into the alleyway, breathing unsteadily. Quickly, she reached up to her bodice, tearing the delicate material. Without pausing, she hit her face against the grimy wall, causing her fair skin to bruise and inflame. She rubbed it, wincing at the jolt of pain.

Turning, she slammed her hands into the wall, causing them to bruise, and redden. Swallowing, tossing off her hat, letting her dark hair fall onto her shoulders, she began to hurry out of the alley.

She turned her head, carefully checking that no-one had seen her. Hurrying across the road, she hailed a cab. Ignoring the startled look of the driver, she climbed into it, shutting the door. Leaning down, she began to rip her skirt, shredding it.

* * *

Arthur fell soundlessly, weightlessly. Soft warmth enveloped him, spinning a silken web. He stretched, luxuriating in it. Never wanting it to end. Never wanting it to stop.

Drifting, endlessly. Noiselessly.

Her lips. He could still see them. Perfectly outlined, a slash against her pale skin. An invite into a dark, exotic world. And those eyes - brown orbs, soft, then hard. Her fingers, pressing into him, inviting him...

Arthur started to fall backwards into darkness.

* * *

"Ariadne?"

She blinked, looking up. Cobb was standing in the doorway of her study. She blushed slightly, getting up. "Yes, Sir?"

"Have you see Selina?" Cobb was frowning. "She left the house earlier this evening, and I wondered if-" he stopped, as if suddenly aware of the animosity that existed between the two women. "If you had seen her."

Ariadne stopped, and shook her head. "No, I haven't." She spoke as politely as she could.

"Ariadne...the young detective who came to the house..." Cobb's voice faltered, and she realised he was looking straight at her. "I asked you earlier, and I want to ask you again. Do you think he and Selina know each other?"

Ariadne swallowed. "I'm not sure," she admitted. A slight worry was growing inside her that this was the case. "I'm really not sure."

"Because..." Cobb said, his lips tightening, "why else would he leave, and then-"

Suddenly, a door slammed downstairs. Cobb blinked, and turned, hurrying out of the room. Ariadne, almost fearful of what she might find, followed him.

* * *

"Stand back! Everyone, please stand back!"

A shrill whistle was blown, causing the crowd of onlookers to scatter, like seeds blown in the wind. A policeman, in an impeccable uniform, was bending over the man who had been dragged from the murky waters of the Thames. He crouched down, and looked at him.

"Can you hear me, Sir?"

Arthur turned his head, twitching slightly. Opening his mouth, dirty water spluttered out. Coughing, he began to turn on his side, choking. The policeman took a step back, involuntarily. "Sir, can you hear me?"

Arthur looked at him, his eyes rolling slightly in his head. "I...her eyes. Her eyes!"

The policeman shook his head. "Sir. Can. You. Hear. Me?"

"Her eyes." Arthur gasped out. "Her eyes!"

The Policeman's own eyes widened. "Come on Sir. Let's get you some help."

* * *

"Miss Kyle!" shocked, Cobb ran down the stairs. Selina, weeping, was staggering through the door.

"Oh, Mr Cobb," she sobbed. "I've had a terrible-"

"Where were you?" Cobb demanded, his face darkening with anger. "I've told you about going out at night alone, with this ripper about!"

Selina looked at him, her face crumpling, and collapsed. Shocked, Cobb rushed forward to help her. "Ariadne! Please! Get a doctor!"

Swallowing, biting back what she wanted to know, Ariadne complied.

* * *

"So he was just babbling, was he?"

The Policeman nodded, his face slightly creased with concern. "He was. Raving about a woman - her eyes." He looked at the short, rotund man. "Do you think you can help him, Doctor?"

The doctor smiled placidly, his eyes blazing with intent. "Oh, yes, Officer." He watched as the bedraggled, filthy Arthur, still muttering under his breath, was dumped on the narrow cell bed. "We can certainly help him."

**All reviews appreciated, thank you!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer**:** Inception does not belong to me. **

"Can you hear me?"

"Her eyes...her eyes...her eyes..."

The doctor took a step back, and shook his head. "No response." He looked at the nurse, standing by silently. "Just demented gibbering."

The nurse swallowed. "Do you think he's-" she paused, her eyes swiftly raking over the dishevelled, filthy young man laying on the straw bedding. "Do you think he's dangerous?"

"No," the doctor said, his tone slightly peppery. "But I do think he needs to be stripped, and re-dressed." He looked at her. "We will have to try and get him strapped down. There's no telling what someone in this state of mind might do."

Arthur blinked, his head turning from side to side. "Eyes...lips like...lips like..."

The Doctor frowned, and leaned forward. "Eyes...lips..."

He was mumbling, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his forehead. The doctor frowned. "Nurse Mills, please get some restraints. We need to clean this young man up, and also pay attention to what he says."

Nodding and frowning, the nurse complied. Arthur, oblivious to what was being said and done, continued to murmur.

* * *

Ariadne sat in her room, silent, and worried. Selina, her face streaked with tears and dirt, had commanded the attention of Cobb and the remainder of the household. She decided to stay in her room.

Biting her lip, she got up, and began to pace. Selina and Arthur knew each other, that was evident. But why had he left early, and why had she suddenly gone out as well? Blinking, Ariadne walked over to the drawer in her bureau, and pulled out a sheet of paper. Picking up a pencil, she began to write down her thoughts.

"Arthur," she murmured. "Selina."

She dropped her pencil on the table. Arthur was in London. He must, she suddenly thought, have a partner he was working with at Scotland Yard. Suddenly, she blinked, her mind filled with determination.

* * *

"So, you went out for some fresh air," Cobb said, slowly. Selina was sitting perched on a chair in her room, wrappe in a robe. With her face cleaned off the grime, she looked younger, and also, innocent. "Miss Kyle, that is so dangerous at present. Especially with the Ripper on the streets."

She nodded. "I know. But I needed to go out for a walk. I had to, to-" she blinked, and tears began to form in her eyes.

Cobb leaned forward, and unexpectedly, laid a hand on top of her hers. "You had to why?" he asked, gently.

"Well, I felt that something had disagreed with me at dinner." She swallowed. "I thought a walk would help ease my digestion." She looked at him, appealingly.

Cobb nodded. "And what happened?"

"Well, I was walking-" she paused, her eyes filling with tears. "I was walking when suddenly, I was grabbed from behind and pulled into an alleyway." She stopped, noting how Cobb looked appalled. "I turned round, and hit him in the face. He then shoved me into the wall, trying to tear at my clothes..."

She choke out a sob, and noticed how the man's face softened. His hands were warm, and he wrapped them around hers. "Oh, I'm sorry this had to happen to you."

She swallowed, and when she spoke, her voice was tearful. "He pushed my face into the wall, bruising it. I tied to scream, and he clamped his hand over my mouth."

"What did you do?"

"I bit his hand," she told him, watching his face for a reaction. To her relief, he looked impressed. "And then I threatened to scream."

"And what did he do?"

"He began to run off." She swallowed, closing her eyes, as though exhausted by simply telling him this. "Then I staggered out of the alleyway, and hailed the cab."

Cobb's lips tightened. "I'm sorry you had to go through this." Picking up her hand, he planted a kiss on it. "I'll get one of the maids to bring you a hot toddy, to help you sleep."

She smiled at him, gratefully. "Thank you, Mr Cobb."

* * *

"Robert?"

"Uncle Peter?"

"Are you all right?" The older man looked at him, kindly. "You were very quiet at dinner. Despite," he added, almost scoldingly, "Miss Bernstein being an excellent dinner guest."

Robert smiled. "I know. I suppose I'm just...I'm sorry," he faltered.

"Robert, please, talk to me. I know its not easy, with your father having recently died, but he entrusted you to my care." Robert blinked, annoyed to find he was fighting back tears.

"Well, I -" he paused. "I think I may have met someone."

"Really?" Browning looked slightly startled. "Can I ask who?"

"I met her-" Robert stopped, and shook his head. He got up. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I think I need to sleep."

Leaving his guardian in the room, he began to walk upstairs to bed.

* * *

"Eames?"

Eames blinked. A stern faced man was standing in front of him.

"Inspector," Eames croaked out.

The older man shook his head. "Eames, I'm sorry this has happened." He began to sit down. "You nearly stopped him killing another woman."

"Nearly?" Eames choked out. "Not good enough."

The other man nodded. "Indeed. But what happened to Detective Ogilvie?"

Eames eyes widened. "He's not been at the station?"

No. Not for over a day."

* * *

****"Can you hear me?"

"The light...the light it shines so bightly..."

The doctor shook his head. "No other way, I'm afraid. His mind seems to be gone." He turned to the nurse. "Please fetch me some antimony. His treatment begins now.!

**Reviews are always welcome and appreciated, thank you! **


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer:** Inception does not belong to me. **

Ariadne blinked, opening her eyes. The gentle touch of light tickled across her face, forcing her to awaken. She began to sit up, rubbing her forehead.

The previous night was returning to her in fragments. Selina suddenly returning home, shaken and sobbing. Cobb soothing her. Selina's claims that she had been attacked, and ha to fight to get away.

And Arthur. What was his connection to Selina? Frowning, she began to get up, and walked to the bureau. The maid had not delivered the pitcher of fresh water yet, and impatiently, she rang her bell.

After a few minutes, the young woman arrived, holding the water. Ariadne nodded as it splashed into the ceramic bowl, and the maid withdrew. As she soaked her washcloth, she began to think.

Arthur had not been working alone. He had had a partner here in London.

The question was, who?

* * *

"Is he awake?"

"He's been moaning for most of the night."

"Really?" the woman's expression was grim. "Well, let's see what's causing that."

As the key grated harshly in the lock, Arthur barely stirred. His eyes were closed, and he appeared to be sleeping.

"Wake up!" the wardress demanded, leaning over him. She shook him, trying to elicit a response. "I said, wake up!"

Startled, Arthur began to blink, and turning his head, began to focus on her face. His eyes widened with terror. She leaned closer, her eyes narrowing as she took in his sallow skin. She shook her head.

"Bring some water."

The younger woman nodded, moving away quietly. The wardress began to pull Arthur upwards, moving him into a sitting position. He moaned softly, but didn't resist.

The wardress took a step back. "You are a state," she said, although not unkindly. "And you're filthy." She pursed her lips, her skirt rustling against the floor. She turned, noticing the pitcher of water that had been brought in.

"About time. Let's see what's underneath this filth, shall we?"

* * *

"Ariadne?"

Ariadne looked up. Cobb was standing in the hallway, smiling at her. She nodded, and continued to walk across the hall to the dining room. As they entered and seated themselves, he began to speak.

"I've told Miss Kyle to stay in bed for the day," he said, calmly, as coffee was poured. "She has had a great shock - I cannot believe that she won't go to the police."

Ariadne swallowed. "She won't?"

"No." Cobb shook his head, frowning. "Its outrageous. She was attacked - she needs to let them know." He began to scrape butter onto a piece of bread. "But she claims they will think its the ravings of a silly, hysterical woman."

Ariadne fell silent. Cobb chewed slowly and thoughtfully, swallowing before speaking again.

"Arthur- he's a detective, isn't he?"

Ariadne blinked, startled. "Yes."

"Well, maybe she would talk to him." Cobb put the bread down, and shook his head. "I can't have a young woman walking around London thinking she can be attacked, and nothing is done. Its not acceptable." He picked up the elegant coffee cup, and took a swallow. "Maybe I'll take her to the police station myself."

"To see Arthur?"

"Of course." Cobb nodded. "I'm sure he'll help."

Ariadne blinked, and stared at the plate.

* * *

"Eames?"

Eames blinked, and began to sit up. His head still ached, but he was prepared to concede he felt better than he had the previous two days. Opening his eyes, he focused on the man standing at the edge of the bed. He smiled in grateful recognition.

"Sargeant," he said, nodding. The more senior officer smiled, and pulled up the chair, carefully seating himself upon it. He looked at the younger officer critically. "How are you?"

"Sore," Eames confessed. He smiled weakly. "But, it could have been worse."

"Well, if you mean another woman could have been slaughtered in the last two days, yes." The sergeant nodded, grimly. "But, something else has happened."

"What?" Eames asked, the pain in his head reduced to a dull ache.

"Detective Ogilvie." The other man blinked, and shook his head. "He seems to have disappeared."

"Disappeared?" Eames almost barked. "How could he just disappear?"

"He didn't come to the station yesterday." The older man frowned. "And when I went to his lodgings, the landlady said that she had not seen him."

Eames shook his head, and pushed back the covers. The other man looked at him with surprise. "Eames...what are you doing?"

"Getting ready to leave," he informed him, not caring he was clad in a nightshirt. "I need to find him."

"Eames-"

"What?"

"Its possible that he has just left. Decided he did not want to deal with this case, and has gone." The sargeant shook his head. "If he has, we're not going to chase him."

"But-" Eames reached for his shirt, which was freshly washed and began to tug it on. "I don't think he would. He seemed more sensible than that. And determined."

The Sergeant shook his head. "Get dressed. Come back to the station."

Eames turned his back, and began to dress fully, his mind racing.

* * *

"Well!" Kester suddenly appeared in the doorway, and looked critically at Arthur. "What happened?"

"I made sure he was washed," the wardress informed him. "A handsome young man was under that dirt!"

Kester looked at him, and his eyes narrowed. "He looked very familiar." He tilted his head, studying Arthur. "In fact-"

Suddenly a cruel grin spread across the doctor's squashed, fat features. He walked towards Arthur. "Can you remember anything?"

Arthur looked up at him, his eyes shining in his now clean face. "Her eyes..." he mumbled.

Kester leaned closer. "Are you...hungry?"

Arthur shook his head.

"You must be." Kester turned to the nurse. "I wouldn't try and feed him. I'd force feed him first." He looked at Arthur. "Bring the equipment, and a couple of wardens."

"Yes, doctor."

Arthur made no complaint as his arm was grabbed.

* * *

Eames scowled irritably as he re-entered the station. He still felt weak and shaky, but Arthur's disappearance had required his return.

He walked slowly across the station floor, not bothering to acknowledge the other officers. As he reached the sergeant's desk, his eyes raking over the piles of paper and ink quill, he heard a stir of voices.

"Eames!"

"What?" he mumbled sourly, turning round. A young constable was looking at him, his eyes wide. "There's a young lady asking after you." He grinned, bashfully. "She's very pretty."

Eames snorted and began to walk to the door. His eyes widened as he saw the petite young woman standing in the doorway. He blinked.

"Hello...?"

"You don't remember me," she said, quickly, "but I was there - on the riverbank-"

Suddenly, Eames' face cleared, and he nodded. "Come this way," he said, quickly. "Please."

* * *

"Hold him down," Kester demanded. Arthur blinked as the woman and two men moved in and grabbed his arms. He blinked in shock as the tube suddenly approached his face, and Kester, roughly, began to push it up his nostril.

As it moved inside, Arthur opened his mouth and tried to scream. A hand was clamped over his mouth, and to his shock, he saw a funnel puncture the end of the tube, filled with thick, grey liquid. As it began to drip down, he felt a sharp, searing pain.

Kestler nodded. "Yes. That's right."

**Thank you for reading, please review!**

**Yes, this is how they treated patients...or those considered to be patients. **


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer:** Inception does not belong to me. **

Eames swallowed as he led the young woman to a chair. As she sat down, he rubbed his face, suddenly feeling self-conscious. A bruise was still visib;le on his cheek, and he was aware that he was walking stiffly.

"Now," he began, hoping to lead easily and quickly into the conversation. "How can I help you?"

She swallowed, and shifted in her chair. Eames smiled, hoping to put her at her ease. She looked round, and he waited, patiently. Despite the fact he was almost churning with nerves, he smiled again.

"Its about...Arthur."

"Detective Ogilvie?" Eames tried to maintain a cool, professional demeanour. "What do you know, Madam?"

She swallowed, and bit her lip. "My name is Ariadne."

"All right." Eames nodded. He lowered his voice, almost conspiratorally. "Have we met before?"

"Yes." She nodded, glancing round, as though concerned someone would overhear. "I met you when I was walking home - and got attacked." She looked uncomfortable. "You and Arthur helped me."

He nodded, and noticed how she winced. "Sorry. I make it sound like I'm helpless."

"How long have you been in London?" he asked, more gently. She bit her lip. "Maybe three months?"

"Then don't think of yourself as helpless." Eames admonished her. "This is a dangerous city. And we have a killer on the loose." He leaned back. "But, as for Arthur - Detective Ogilvie - I'm aware he's gone missing." He watched her face, looking for a reaction. "But what does it have to do with you?"

Ariadne bit her lip, and leaned forward. "I'm the Governess for a man called Dominic Cobb. His housekeeper, Selina Kyle - she and Arthur know each other. And I think she has to do with his disappearing."

Eames' eyes widened, then narrowed slightly. "That's a bold assertion to make, Miss-"

"Hayes," she said, quickly. "Hayes."

"Miss Hayes." He swallowed, unsure of whether to take her story seriously or not. "What do you know about Miss Kyle?"

"I think she's a former showgirl."

"Really?"

"Yes." She shifted in her seat. "And I think she was involved with someone rich - very rich - in Chicago."

Eames leaned forward. "Who?"

"I think his name was Bruce Wayne."

Eames' eyes widened. "Would you wait one moment, please?"

* * *

"Morning Arthur. How are you today?"

Arthur barely stirred. He was lying on the cot, staring glassily at the ceiling. His arms were pulled back into a striatjacket, and tied. The nurse shook her head. "Poor thing."

Kester turned, frowning as he saw the look of sympathy flicker over the young woman's features. "Please, don't give him any sympathy, Nurse Dawes. This young man proceeded to create scenes of an unimaginable nature yesterday." He shuddered, shaking his head. "It was truly outrageous."

She fell silent. "What happened?"

"During the process of force feeding, he proceeded to grab the tube, rip it out, and gave in to uncontrollable rage, striking two of the nurses." Kester shook his head, his lips tightening into a thin line. "I cannot condone that type of behaviour in my own institution." He frowned, the lines on his face deepening.

"But he's covered in-" she swallowed. "There is food all over his face and-"

"No, that's vomit." Kester folded his arms, and gave the young woman a hard stare. "That is vomit."

"What?" she stammered out.

"Its very simple. If a patient cannot eat properly, or respect the rules of this institution, they can expect some hard treatment. Please don't waste sympathy on him, Nurse Dawes. Now, come along."

Stunned, the nurse meekly followed the doctor out of the room.

* * *

"Miss Kyle?"

Selina blinked, startled at the sudden knock. She was sitting at her dressing table, gently powdering her face. Clad in a flowing white nightgown, with a matching robe, the image was one of innocence and purity. Getting up, she moved towards the door. Hesitantly, trying to give the impression of timidity, she creaked the door open, gently.

"Yes?" As she realised who was standing at it, she pulled the door open in surprise. "Mr Cobb!"

"Miss Kyle." He did not enter the room, but stood at the threshold. Selina looked at him, carefully. "How can I help you?"

"No, I'm here to help you," he instructed, gently. "How are you feeling?"

"Well, I still feel weak...very shaken." She pulled her features into a downcast expression, and watched as Cobb's face softened further. "I have slept."

"Good. When you feel better..." he hesitated, biting his lip.

"What is it?" she inquired, keen to see where the conversation was leading.

"Well...I think we should ask Detective Ogilvie to come and see you." Cobb smiled, reassuringly. "If he knows you, I think it would be a good idea to ask him for help."

Selina blinked, her heart beginning to thud, uncomfortably. "I-"

"Only when you're starting to feel better," Cobb interrupted. "I don't want you to feel pressured in any way."

Selina swallowed, her face paling slightly. "Why Ar- Detective Ogilvie?"

"Well, you seem to know him."

"Know isn't the right word," Selina said, darkly, noticing how Cobb's expression changed. "He - he"

"What is it?"

"Oh, it was in Chicago!" she stammered, blood rushing to her face. "He tried to abuse his position, take advantage of me!"

Cobb blinked. "Selina-"

"No, I can't talk about it, I'm too ashamed!"

Stunned at her near hysterical outburst, Cobb stepped away from the door.

* * *

Swallowing, Nurse Dawes entered Arthur's cell. She was holding a bucket of warm water, and a cloth. Moving towards him, she lowered her voice. "Hey? Are you awake?"

With no response, she began to crouch down, and gently soaked the cloth. Carefully, she began to wipe his face, ridding the skin of the dirt and vomit.

"Ar-"

"Yes?"

"Ar-"

She blinked. "What is it Sir?"

No response. Lapsing into silence, he continued to stare at the ceiling.

* * *

Selina surveyed the room. The bolster gave the impression she was in bed, and she had dimmed the light. Smiling, she began to pull up her skirt, tucking it carefully. As she pulled down the large sash window, she pulled herself up onto the ledge. Swallowing, she used the window to escape into the night.

**Please review - it is appreciated!**


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer:** Inception does not belong to me. **

Selina hurried through the damp, dark streets, before approaching the house. She knocked, and the door opened. A woman stood in the doorframe, her blonde hair mussed, and expression exasperated.

"You're a little late," she commented.

"Well, I got held up." Selina scowled slightly - she resented being questioned. "Do you have any idea how difficult it is, trying to be in my position? Pretending to be the housekeeper when I know I should be lady of the house?"

Jen raised her eyebrows, and held out the bottle. "Here. Settle your nerves."

Selina shook her head. "No thanks." She began to walk inside, and headed for the stairs. "Upstairs, right?"

"Yes."

"Good." She continued, and eventually came to another door, pushing it open. Her eyes widened and sparkled as she saw what was laid out on the bed. "Oh, very nice," she commented.

"Its real French silk," Jen chattered, excitedly. "I managed to get the money, and also found a tailor to make it. What do you think?"

"I think," Selina said, slowly, as she picked up the light rose pink dress, and gazed at the expensive hat, "its beautiful. And it will be perfect when I go and visit."

"What do you need to visit him for?" Jen asked, carefully, her eyes wide and questioning. "He's in the asylum, and he's staying there?"

Selina shrugged. "Who knows what he can babble." She picked the dress up, and held it against herself. "Oh, very nice. Thank you." She looked at her. "No, I haven't forgotten our arrangement. Once I marry Cobb, Ariadne will be out, and you'll be the children's governess. Its perfect."

"What about Arthur?"

"He's never coming out. And he deserves it." She shrugged. "After what he did, in exposing my past to Bruce - I told him at the hearing that I would get my revenge. And I don't think he believed me."

"Did you ever-" Jen lowered her voice. "Well, did you ever-"

"Did I ever what?" Selina asked, her voice calm.

"Did you ever sleep with Arthur?" Jen practically whispered the question. "I mean-"

Selina looked at her. "Please. Do you think I'd ever touch that sanctimonious, cold, dreary, scrawny over-grown boy scout?" she shook her head. "He's not a man, just a pale imitation of one."

"Are you sure?"

Selina stiffened. One night, she'd spotted Arthur at the theatre. She'd just performed, and had come off stage, mingling i the crowd. She'd spotted him, sitting alone, his face sad, and serious. Without hesitation, she'd walked over.

"Good evening," she'd purred.

"Evening," he'd replied, curtly, nodding his head. Without being asked, she'd proceeded to seat herself, leaning over, propping herself up on one elbow.

"Never seen you here before."

"That's because its the first time," he'd replied, almost coldly. She'd smiled, and leaned closer.

"Well," she'd said, her voice silky, "how can I tempt you to come back?"

Arthur had merely raised an eyebrow, not even rising to her bait. "I don't think you can."

"Oh, I can..." moving over towards him, her hand began to fondle the top of his collar, and his tie. He swallowed, letting her long fingers gently toy with the buttons, twisting, caressing. Before he could move, her lips were close to his.

He pulled back. "I'm sorry, I'm not that type of man." He began to get up, and bowed. "Good evening." Before she could protest, he'd turned, and left.

Scowling, shed watched, waiting for him to come back. He never had...until the week before she'd met Bruce. She'd seen him, then approached him.

"Never thought you'd come back," she whispered, seeing him seated at the same table. He nodded, and picked up his glass. "I wondered if you'd notice me."

"A man like you? Of course I notice you." She smiled, her fingers fondling the front of her dark red gown. "Question is, do you just want to sit here, and be noticed?"

Arthur looked at her. "Maybe I do."

"No," she whispered. "You don't." Before he could move, she'd looped her arms around his neck, and begun to kiss him. He'd reciprocated, slowly.

A couple of hours later, she'd managed to bring him back to her lodgings. He'd looked askance at the dirty, peeling wallpaper, the sagging bed. She'd sat on it, and smiled. "Come on."

He'd moved over. As he'd seated himself next to her, she'd begun to run her hands over his chest, pulling him close. He'd reciprocated, letting her kiss him. He'd begun to explore, with his hands, settling them on her delicate, corseted waist.

As she'd begun to push him down, he'd begun to protest. "No. No, please."

"What?" she'd asked, her eyes narrowing.

"No." He shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I can't do this."

"Do what?" She demanded, harshly.

"I..." he turned. "This was a mistake." Before she could speak again, he'd hurried away, out the door, down the stairs.

Selina shook her head, gripping the material tightly. She turned to Jen. "So, when I visit him tomorrow, I'll know exactly what to say."

"But how did you know he was...?"

"One of the wardens is a friend of mine." Selina smiled, and began to package up the clothes. "But, thank you."

Before Jen could respond, Selina had gone.

* * *

Ariadne walked back, her mind in a whirl. Bruce Wayne...Arthur...Selina. She shook her head. And the murderer - what was going to happen to that case?

Thoughtfully, she stepped into the road - only to suddenly hear the scream of a startled horse.

"Watch where you're going!" An irate coachman roared, his face scarlet, bandishing his whip. Ariadne stopped, terrified. Suddenly, the coach door opened.

"Its all right," a gentle voice called. She blinked, and realised Robert Fischer was looking at her. "Please, come inside."

Taken aback, she swallowed, and consented.

* * *

Selina hurried through the door, pushing it abruptly. Yusuf looked up, startled. "Yes, Miss-?" His face clouded when he saw her. She arched an eyebrow, smiling.

"I need another dose," she said, her voice lilting. His face frowned, and she leaned over the counter and hissed. "Now."

* * *

Arthur closed his eyes. All he could see was a swirling mist. But when he opened them, all he could see was darkness. He blinked, and turned over. His hands were manacled in front of him, and he felt unable to pull them apart. He began to murmur, weakly.

"Well, well," said a voice. "Looks like someone might think they know who you are."

Arthur, silent, his eyes glazed, did not respond.

"Looks like you might have a visitor."

Arthur still did not respond.

"You've got five minutes with him Miss. If you think you can identify him..." The metal door began to draw back, and Selina stepped into the cramped, filthy cell.

**Please review - it is appreciated!**


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer:** Inception does not belong to me. **

Arthur turned his head, blinking. Selina sat down, and reached for one of his hands, noting how they were chained together.

"Will you be allright, Miss?" the warden asked, clearly confused.

Selina smiled, and nodded. "Yes. This is my..." she choked slightly, her eyes reddening. "This is my younger brother." She reached out, and gently stroked the top of his head. "There, now," she crooned, softly. "You need to calm down."

The warden nodded, and withdrew, closing the metal gated door. Selina looked at Arthur, appraisingly.

"You're looking thin," she mused, resting her chin on her hand. "Not that it matters." She shook her head, and dropping his hand, began to get up. She walked to the other side of the dirty cell, pausing to note the dripping water through the stones, the coldness. She looked at him, and noticed him writhe slightly.

"I really didn't want to do this to you," she whispered, her voice low. "But you didn't give me a choice. You told my lover about my past, and it drove him to suicide. You robbed me of everything I had, everything that I valued. But it didn't matter to you. There is nothing you do value. No-one special, is there, Arthur?"

She sat down again, looking into his face. His eyes, dark and strangely vacant, gazed blankly into hers. She reached out, gently stroking his cheek with her fingers.

"Wait a moment." She got up, and walked to the door. Swallowing, she opened her mouth, and raised her voice. "Warden! WARDEN!"

A few moments later, she heard the hurrying footsteps, and smiled. The warden appeared, and looked at her. "What is it, Miss?"

"I just wondered," Selina said, smiling in a concerned manner, "when was the last time my brother ate."

"He..." the warden looked at her, slightly askance. "I'll get the nurse."

Selina turned and looked at Arthur. Dressed in the shabby institution clothing, he looked far smaller and weaker than when she had last seen him. She waited, patiently, for the nurse.

Eventually, a small, pale woman appeared. Selina gave her a slightly condescending look, noting how the other woman seemed to shrink into herself. "I'm nurse Dawes," she said, hesitantly. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, I'm so concerned about poor Arthur," Selina said, tears coming into her eyes, and beginning to trickle down her cheeks. "He's so thin...is there anything you could bring him?"

"Well, he is a difficult patient," Dawes stammered slightly, her cheeks reddening. "We've tried to feed him, but he's reacted with violence. So we..."

"What did you do?" Selina asked, lowering her voice. Dawes blinked, seemingly intimidated by this fashionable young woman with a slightly edgy American accent. She swallowed.

"We were force feeding him," she whispered. "We had to. It was either that, or he could -"

"Could what?"

"He could die."

Selina shook her head. "Please, bring me a bowl of something. I'll feed him myself."

Dawes nodded, meekly. "Of course." Turning, she hurried down the corridor.

* * *

Ariadne swallowed, looking at the plush exterior of the carriage. It's interior was covered in soft, burgundy velvet, and Robert, his face partially obscured by the creeping darkness, looking almost ghostly pale against it. He smiled at her, gently.

"I'm sorry I asked you to get in," he said, apologetically. "But I saw you, and..." he lapsed into silence, and she nodded. "No, thank you," she said, slightly disconcerted. "I really didn't want to walk in the mud!"

He smiled at her. "Well, I'm glad of the company. I do get lonely here."

She blinked, feeling slightly unsettled that this attractive - nay, beautiful - young man was seemingly so interested. "Thank you, Mr Fischer."

"Robert," he gently admonished her. "Please, call me Robert." He smiled at her again. "Will you dine with me?"

"I-" she blinked, taken aback. "My employer - I mean, Mr Cobb - will be expecting me -"

"Oh, its no trouble," he said, with a wistful tone in his voice. "I'll take you there."

Ariadne, feeling slightly crushed, sank back into her seat. Swallowing, she turned her face to the window.

* * *

Eames rubbed his forehead. He'd spent most of the afternoon studiously combing newspapers, hoping to find crumbs of information on Bruce Wayne. After spending three hours straining his eyes at the tiny print, he grudgingly aceded defeat.

He leaned back, and used his fingers to gently massage the muscles round his eyes. Swallowing, he began to look closely. "Arthur..." he muttered. "What's your connection to..."

Then, he blinked. Jumping out at him was the confirmation he craved.

_"Detective Arthur Ogilvie is confident that the Chicago Police Department will find the killer of Mr Bruce Wayne, the wealthy young industrialist. "I am convinced that the killer was someone who Mr Wayne knew," Mr Ogilvie insisted. "There was no sign of forced entry to his house. I am sure the killer knew him, and was perhaps, intimately involved with him."_

Intimately involved...Eames' brow furrowed. He leaned over again, studying the newsprint.

_"Mr Wayne was not married. However, he was rumoured to be in love with a Ms Selina Kyle, a dancer at one of the local halls. Ms Kyle disappeared the night of Mr Wayne's death, and her whereabouts are unknown."_

Eames studied the pictures of the Times. He realised he should be thankful that the British press were actually printing evidence of this news story, although he suspected it was due to the high level of reknown that Wayne had had. A well known philanthropist, he had been liked and respected. He looked at the photos. One was of the young billionaire, clad in a suit, smiling. There was also a photo of a striking young woman, with large, alluring dark eyes. Eames frowned - it wasn't a face you could forget.

Frowning, he began to get up, and leave the police station for the night.

* * *

"Well, thank you for bringing Ariadne home, Mr Fischer." Cobb's voice was courteous, but Ariadne could detect an undercurrent of unease. She swallowed, keeping a slight distance from them both.

"It was no trouble," the pale young man replied. He smiled at her. "Well, good evening to you, Miss Hayes." Tipping his hat, he left the house, gracefully walking through the front door, and down the stairs.

Cobb watched as he left, then turned to her. "Well," he said, appearing to be cordial. "Would you join me for dinner?"

Ariadne looked at him. "What about Miss Kyle?"

"Miss Kyle has had a very bad day," Cobb said, his tone gentle. "I think her nerves are bad after the way she was attacked." He shook his head. "But, I'll see her later, if she wishes." He offered Ariadne his arm. "Now, we have a dinner guest!"

Smiling, he led the way into the drawing room. Ariadne blinked as Miles stood up. "Miss Hays. Wonderful to see you again."

* * *

"Oh, thank you," Selina said, as Dawes brought her a bowl of broth. "He is far too thin!" She turned to Arthur, the spoon in her hand. "Now, come on, sit up."

Struggling, Arthur responded mechanically. Selina put the bowl down, and with a clever sleight of hand, emptied the small bottle concealed in the folds of her skirt into the bowl. She dipped the spoon in, letting the empty glass bottle drop soundlessly into her waiting purse.

"Come on," she cooed. "Take a spoonful."

Mechanically, soundlessly, Arthur opened his mouth. Selina slid the spoon in.

"That's it. Just right." Her eyes flashed, and yanking the spoon out, prepared another mouthful.

* * *

Eames walked along the pavement, feeling despondent. Arthur's disappearance was not being treated as at all suspicious by his colleagues - the assumption was that he had simply left and gone back to America. But Eames was not convinced - it did not fit in with Arthur's character.

Suddenly, he stopped.

Walking down a pavement - after having come out of a gloomily cheerless institution - was a young woman, dressed in black. He blinked, catching a glimpse of the pale skinned face and large, soulful dark eyes.

_My God, its her._

Suddenly, he felt electrified. Determined to speak to her, he began to follow her.

* * *

"He's unconsious?"

"Completely."

"This is not good."

Dawes bit her lip. "Doctor..."

Kester shook his head. "Take him to the machine."

**Thank you for reading, please review!**


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer:** Inception does not belong to me. **

Eames walked carefully, noiselessly. He watched as she bobbed and weaved her way through the bustling crowd - a skill she had learned as a dancer, he supposed - keeping her skirts gracefully tight and her body erect. He frowned - the sky was darkening, and he knew that if he let her go, his chances of bumping into her again were slim. He resolved to keep up.

Suddenly, he noticed she was hailing a hansom cab. Quietly, he stole up behind her. He knew hat he was about to do was unethical, but he had to know the truth. As she opened the door and began to climb in, he nodded at the surprised driver and climbed in with her, firmly shutting the door.

She looked at him, her dark eyes glowing with anger. "Do you mind?"

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry," Eames said, his tone light. "I thought it was free."

"Well, its not!" she snapped. Sinking back into her seat, she glared at him. "I assume you're not an uncouth oaf, so perhaps you would mind leaving a lady in peace?"

Eames smiled at her, beguilingly at first, then his expression darkened. "Madam. I make no assumption that you are a lady."

She shook her head. "You are rude, impertinent-"

"And," he interrupted, pulling out his leather bound wallet in which he kept his police identification - "a police officer. Detective. And I'm trying to find out the answer to two things. The first is where is Detective Arthur Ogilvie. The second is what happened to a young American billionaire, Bruce Wayne."

She shook her head, her lips curving. "I'm afraid those names mean nothing to me."

Eames smiled again. "They should. Miss Kyle." He banged on the roof of the cab, and heard the driver lightly whip the horse, forcing it to begin to move. "So, let's start with where Detective Ogilvie is, shall we?"

* * *

"Now," Kester said, looking down at the dazed Arthur, "look at this. Focus, please."

Arthur's expression was blank. Nurse Dawes bit her lip, wanting to reach out and gently touch his face, remind him that he was not alone. Kester looked at her, and frowned.

"No reaction." He turned, and she began to notice the contraption he had loaded onto a small table. She shivered - it was brass, and had several knobs on it. "What is it?" she asked timidly.

"Its a device a friend of mine was experimenting with, only he felt it wasn't ready to try out on people." Kester's tone was one of sour accusation, as though the friend could have done something more. "It uses an excellent new invention."

"Which is?"

"Electricity." Kester smiled, happily. "I intend to use the pulses from this machine to try and invade our patients' dreams. Dreams are a great insight into the stability of the mind, Miss Dawes."

"But-" she gulped. As she looked down at Arthur, she felt a pang of worry. His face was bone white, and she noticed with shock that his head was beginning to loll. "Dr Kester, I don't think he's ready to-"

"No, no, he will be fine," Kester insisted, smiling. "He will be."

Dawes looked at Arthur. "But doctor-"

"Nurse Dawes." Kester was shaking his head. "You see this?" he held up a long, thin wire. "I am going to insert this into Arthur's arm, to connect him to the machine. It will help give an insight into his dreams."

"But how will you know?" Dawes asked, troubled.

"Because," Kester replied, gravely, "I intend to connect myself to the machine as well."

* * *

Selina looked at Eames, tilting her head. Her attempt to appear coquettish did not seem to make an impression. He leaned forward, lowering his voice.

"What happened?"

Selina swallowed, and shook her head. "I don't know. All I know is, I came home...and found him, lying on the bed, not breathing."

"And you didn't stay to try and clear your name?" Eames frowned; the cocky attitude was slipping, and he was seeing glimpses of a far more vulnerable woman.

"I was scared," she admitted, leaning forward. "I was a showgirl who Bruce met. I had no social status. They would never have believed me."

"They?"

"The cops." She sniffed, somewhat disdainfully. "Like your stuck up friend, Arthur."

Eames sat back in his seat. "What do you know about Arthur?"

"He was a friend of Bruce's," she admitted, wearily. "That's all I know. But I do know that he does not like me."

Eames frowned. "Arthur is a fair man," he said, choosing his words, carefully. "He would never accse anyone of anything-"

"He was being investigated," she said, bluntly. "By his own department. Why do you think they shipped him out to London?"

Eames blinked. "Miss Kyle-"

"Listen, I know Arthur comes over as being in control, and everything," she interrupted, "but you cannot trust him. He's no good."

She banged on the roof of the cab, and it came to an abrupt halt. Eames felt slightly shocked, and realised she was opening the door. "Miss Kyle-"

"What?" she turned to him, real anger flashing in her eyes. "Stop playing games. Either arrest me or leave me alone."

"Miss Kyle." Eames spoke sharply as she opened the door. "Answer one question. Arthur. Is he dead?"

She shrugged. "I'm not sure."

Stunned, Eames watched as she daintily let herself out of the carriage, and began to walk down the road. He slumped, realising that in one stroke, she had sullied Arthur's good name, yet also admitted that she knew his whereabouts.

Arthur!

Shocked, Eames got out of the cab, throwing money at the driver. He began to follow her, realising that she had picked up her pace, and was now practically running. He chased her, aware he was receiving shocked glances.

* * *

The warden approached as the bell rang to the institution. The door creaked open, and he frowned at the slight, pale man standing in front of him.

"Robert Fischer," he said, coolly. "I believe Dr Kester is expecting me?"

The warden nodded. "This way, Sir."

* * *

"I'm so glad you are still on board, Miss Hays." Miles sounded pleased, no doubt fortified by the glass of whiskey he had been offered and drunk. "It is a tremendous project."

She nodded. "It sounds it." Cobb was picking up his own glass. "I wonder how Miss Kyle is," he mused. "I should-"

Suddenly, the maid appeared. Flustered, she hurried to Cobb, leaning down and whispering to him. He frowned, and began to get up. "Please excuse me."

* * *

Kester scowled as the warden entered. "Someone to see you, Sir."

"Who?" Kester snapped, leaning over the unconscious Arthur.

"Mr Robert Fischer."

Kester immediately snapped to attention. "Of course. I will be right there. This patient can wait until later." Ignoring Dawes, he hurried away from Arthur's limp body.

Dawes leaned over Arthur. Swallowing, she began to deftly untie his restraints.

* * *

"Selina!" Cobb exclaimed. "What were you doing out, and-" He paused as the tall, well built man loomed into the shadow behind her.

"Terribly sorry," he said, apologetically. "I'm Eames. Detective Eames. Can we go somewhere private to talk?"

**Please review - it is appreciated!**


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer:** Inception does not belong to me. I was asked in a PM who would portray Kester. I would go for Toby Jones. **

"A word?" Cobb's face creased slightly, as he took in the slightly dishevelled man. "I-"

"Mr Cobb." Eames took a step forward, his voice calm, but authorative. "I need to speak to you. It is important." He stood firm, as though trying to persuade the more elegantly dressed man that he would not be leaving.

"Well, this is irregular, but-" Cobb shook his head, clearly recognising that the quickest way to be rid of this unwanted stranger was to actually talk to him. "Come this way."

Chagrined, Selina watched as the two men began to walk away. Furious, she ignored the curious stares of the servants and began to hurry up the stairs.

Entering her small bedroom, she locked, the door, and began to plan. By her reckoning, she had at least twenty minutes before Cobb - and the sleazy policeman - came to look for her. Opening her wardrobe, she pulled out a black bag she had stashed, and placed it on the bed. Unlatching it, she checked its contents, and smiled.

Quickly, she stripped off her heavy gown, tossing it on the bed. Rid of the underpinning and corset, she reached for a pair of black trousers, a white shirt, and a black jacket. As she dressed in them, she frowned at the long chestnut hair that framed her face. Reaching up, she grabbed a black chimney sweep's cap, and shoved her hair into it, pulling it down, low over her face.

Placing the straps of the bags over her arms, she opened the window. Swinging out of it, she prepared to climb down, and to disappear. Forever.

* * *

"Mr Fischer, I have a patient I am attending to." Kester sat down, and frowned. "What is it?"

"I need to know when its going to be ready." Fischer looked at him, his eyes shadowed. "I need it."

"Mr Fischer." Kester swallowed, awkwardly. "Being anxious about this will not increase my productivity on it. I am currently in the process of testing it, but-"

"I need it." Fischer got up, beginning to pace. "You don't know how hard it is, controlling impulses." He swallowed, looking at the other man. "When I feel the need-"

"Robert, Robert," Kester said gently, getting up and placing a hand on his shoulder. "I know this is hard for you, but-"

"But I am behaving in a way that will put me in prison, or see me hang," the younger man said, clearly anguished. "This machine...you say it can remove people's thoughts?"

"Yes, and manipulate them." Kester smiled kindly and reached for the bottle of scotch he kept in his desk. "But please, calm down. You will not face the police, I promise."

* * *

"Can you hear me?"

He blinked, and began to move his arms. Nodding, Dawes picked up the blanket that was lying on the side, that Kester had ordered. "Come on."

With her help, he began to move into a sitting position. Carefully, she wrapped the blanket round him, and began to move him off the hard, high bed. With assistance, his slightly wasted muscles began to move again, and he started to walk, slowly.

"I need to get you out of here." Her voice, was soft, anxious. "I don't know what he intends to do, but that machine is no good."

They began to walk together. She moved to a door, and shoved a key in it, unlocking it. "This will take us outside. Kester thinks no-one knows about this, but I do." Pulling Arthur in with her, she closed the door, and locked it.

* * *

"Miss Hays." Miles DeLaune was looking at her. "As Mr Cobb has left us, would you care to come with me, to see about the place I'm working on?"

Ariadne blinked. She locked at the stately grandfather clock on the wall, and noticed it was only half past seven. "Well, yes," she said, nodding.

"Excellent. I will ensure you get home safely." Miles dabbed his mouth with his napkin, and then began to rise. "Shall we?"

* * *

"So, my housekeeper...you think she's a criminal?" Cobb could hardly believe his ears. Eames shifted awkwardly in his seat.

"Mr Cobb. Your housekeeper was involved with a very wealthy man, who died in mysterious circumstances. I have reason to believe she may have been involved. And with the disappearance of my new partner, Detective Ogilvie."

Cobb stiffened slightly. "Detective Ogilvie? Arthur? But he was here...he had dinner with us..." his voice trailed off. "Oh God," he whispered. Getting up, he practically ran out of the room.

* * *

Selina banged on the door, hard. After what seemed an interminable age, Jen opened it. Her eyes widened when she saw Selina standing there.

"You..." her voice trailed off as Selina stepped inside. "What are you doing here?"

"I couldn't stay" She lowered her voice. "They were going to find out." She looked at Jen. "I have nowhere else to go."

Jen nodded. Silently, she began to lead Selina in.

* * *

"Her room is up here," Cobb said, urgently, as he and Eames moved swiftly up the stairs. He reached the door, and began to tap on it, sharply.

"Selina? Miss Kyle?"

He looked at Eames. Irritated by the lack of response, he pulled a bunch of keys out of his pocket, and began to unlock the door. As the two men entered, they noticed the breeze entering through the open window. Cobb's jaw dropped, and he shook his head.

"She's gone."

Eames turned to him, his expression serious. "We will find her."

Cobb swallowed. "What about Arthur?"

"She'll lead us to him."

"And...the killer? The one Arthur was sent to help catch?"

Eames rubbed his forehead.

"Let's just pray that neither of them are his victims." His jaw set, he turned and began to leave the room.

**All readers appreciated, and I'd love some reviews, thank you!**


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer:** Inception does not belong to me. **

"Through here."

Arthur followed Dawes mechanically as they twisted and turned through the underground maze. Finally, they reached a flight of steps, and the wooden doors covering them were pushed open. As Dawes began to walk up, she offered Arthur her hand.

"Come on."

He grasped it, numbly. He had no idea where he was, or who he was. He followed the determined young woman, as they began to walk down the dark, grimy street. Swallowing, she reached for his hand. He allowed himself to be pulled close, and they continued.

After what seemed an interminable length of time, they reached the door of an imposing looking building. Dawes reached into her pocket, and pulled out a key. After it scraped into the lock, they began to enter.

"Come on, this way."

Arthur was led up a flight of stairs, and to a room. A small, but comfortable and clean one. She took him to the bed, and pulled down the covers.

"Here," she said, kindly. "They won't look for us - I gave Kester a different address." She smiled. "I'm not going back there, I can find work as a maid, or something." She pulled over covers over him. "Please, sleep. I will get you some food, and clothes."

She walked over to the grate, and began to build a small fire. Arthur watched her through his half closed lids. Everything was taking on a dreamy, slightly surreal quality. He felt the warmth of the covers and of the fire, and slowly, began to drift into sleep.

* * *

"Its here," Miles said to Ariadne. He offered her his arm as she stepped down from the elegant carriage. "Please, follow me."

As Ariadne entered the house, she blinked. It was welcoming, and cosy, shaking her first preconception.

"The whole point of this house," Miles began, as they started to walk down the corridor, "is to make the young women here feel they have a future. It needs to be stressed to them that their lies can be changed."

"So these are young women who have been..." Ariadne's voice trailed off, trying to find the right word.

"Not rescued," Miles said, quickly. "But assisted. That's what's important."

* * *

"So what are you going to do?"

Selina sighed, stretched out on the bed. She was lying with her eyes closed, trying hard to assess her options. "Well, if I go back to Chicago they'll arrest me as soon as I step off the boat." She shook her head. "Head to New York, try and get lost in the crowds."

Jen sat down on the edge of the bed. "I'm sure the police won't find you."

"They will." Selina bit her lip, and Jen could have sworn she almost look scared. "But there is someone who can help me." She got up, running her fingers through her dark hair. "He owes me."

"Who?" Jen asked, persistent.

"No-one you know," Selina replied, almost brusquely. She blinked, trying to work out what to do. "I'm going to be heading out." She looked at Jen. "If the police do turn up, I was never here."

"But-"

"Later." Before Jen could stop her, she'd opened the door, and begun to head out.

* * *

"Which way do you think she'd go?"

Eames blinked, and frowned slightly in response to Cobb's question. "I have no idea." He shook his head, frustrated with his own lack of answers. "She could be anywhere."

"Well, a murderess...I was harbouring her!"

"Mr Cobb," Eames interrupted with unusual patience, "I assure you we don't know if she did actually murder anyone. I suspect she rather believes she does, but that doesn't mean she did it."

Cobb was visibly shaken. "She..."

"Mr Cobb. I need to find her, and Arthur." Eames looked at him, directly. "Now, are you going to help me, or hider me?"

Cobb looked at him. "Help you." He nodded. "In any way I can."

* * *

"Thank you," Fischer said, gratefully, as he stood up. "Thank you, Doctor."

"Oh, don't thank me." Kester smiled, coldly. "You see, Robert, I have the perfect man to take all the blame for this. One who perhaps was leading himself towards trouble." Kester raised the glass as in a toast to himself. "That man will soon be spilling out details of his awful crimes to the police." He swiled the whiskey in the glass. "So, don't worry."

"Thank you, again."

* * *

"Mr DeLaune!" Rachel exclaimed, as she hurried down the stairs. "I need you to-" She blinked, and looked at Ariadne. "Good evening," she said politely, dropping in a little curtsey.

"Oh!" Ariadne exclaimed, raising her hand to her mouth. "Oh, I'm not important!"

"This is Miss Hayes, a young governess." Miles smiled at Rachel. "Ariadne, this is Miss Rachel Dawes. Miss Dawes is a nurse, and is tower of strength here. She gave up a job in a hospital to help me."

"Well, actually I need your help." She looked at Miles. "I-"

"What is it?" Miles asked, looking slightly puzzled.

"I rescued a young man today," she said, softly.

Miles blinked, then his face cleared. "Oh, I see." He nodded. "Well done, Miss Dawes. Miss Hayes? I want to show you how Miss Dawes is helping this project. Sometimes, we do include men."

Rachel bowed and began to lead them up the stairs.

* * *

Robert Fischer sighed as he entered his chambers. He neither knew nor cared where his godfather was, and walked to the small table in the centre of the sumptous room. Picking up a decanter of Scotch, he began to carefully fill a glass.

He picked it up, and began to walk to the window. Taking a sip, he frowned. He looked at the window and blinked. It was partially open, the curtains starting to bilow. Annoyed, he moved to shut it - only for a sudden kick to send him reeling.

The glass fell from his hand, spreading over the carpet. He felt himself pushed back, until he was against the wall, a hand at his throat. He looked, realising he was staring into the face of a young woman, who was dressed in a boy's clothes.

"Miss Kyle," he said, pleasantly, although his heart was pounding. "Why are you here?"

"I want," she said, softly, "what you owe me."

Fischer raised his hand and delivered a blow to her face, causing her to reel back. He dislodged her, shoving her across the room. She staggered, and he grabbed her arm, twisting it painfully.

"Want?" He raised an eyebrow, and shook his head. "Want does not get."

* * *

"He's in here." Rachel hurriedly led the way, and Miles and Ariadne followed her. "I left him sleeping."

She pushed the door open, and they entered. Ariadne gasped when she saw the pale figure in the bed.

"My God," she whispered. "Arthur."

**Please review - it is appreciated!** **Thank you for reading this fic!**


	21. Chapter 21

Disclaimer:** Inception does not belong to me. **

"Arthur?" Ariadne bit her lip as she leaned over the pale, gaunt face. His hands, resting on top of the blankets, looked bony, spidery. She reached out, and touched one. He barely shifted.

"Miss Hays," Miles said, gently. "I can assure you he will be well cared for. Miss Dawes is an excellent nurse." He nodded. "Miss Dawes, please ask one of the other girls to bring the young man some soup." He looked at Ariadne. "We're rather strict here about doing things for ourselves."

"I see," Ariadne mumbled. She looked at Arthur, and shuddered. "I think...I'd better leave." She looked at Miles, who nodded with understanding. "Of course." He began to move to the door. "I'll get the carriage to come to the front for you."

Ariadne, pale and shocked, nodded her thanks. Kindly and attentively, Miles took her hand, and began to lead her to the front door.

* * *

Selina blinked, reeling backwards as Robert's hand aggressively slapped her face. She brought her hand up, feeling the warmth of the blow. Robert shook his head.

"I told you - want does not get."

"But I-" she choked, her eyes unintentionally filling with tears of pain and rage. "I did what you asked. I led that nosy uptight cop off the scent."

"Yes, only to lead him to the place where I could be discovered." Robert almost snarled, baring his teeth. "That's where a victim of mine is, understand? You trying to trap me, Selina? After the way I helped you?"

"Helped me?" she asked bitterly.

"Selina, I found you on the street when you first arrived in this city. In this country." He poured himself another glass of scotch. "And I offered you shelter. Even helped you get a job. Wrote you a respectable reference, and you ended up at Cobb's."

"And I ended up in your bed," she hissed, baring her own teeth. She walked towards Robert, her fear of him replaced with anger. "In your bed, Robert. Don't tell me you didn't enjoy it."

Robert took a sip of scotch. "You are very talented, Selina. Tell me, did Bruce Wayne enjoy it as well?"

She flushed, her eyes overspilling with tears. "Don't talk about Bruce," she warned. "He actually believed I could change."

"But can you?" Robert swirled the liquor in his glass. "Why are you here, Selina, worming your way into the hearts and homes of lonely, wealthy men in London? Why are you so angry with that young detective - angry enough that you tried to kill him?"

"I did as you told me." She tilted her head. "You knew he was here in London. You warned me."

"I told you to warn him off, not try and kill him." Robert frowned. "Encourage him to get on the first ship back to Chicago. Not lure him to a back alley, and then tip him into the River Thames."

"You only want him away because you're scared of what they'll do to you when they find out." She hissed, her voice almost feral. "When they find out that you have killed and maimed young women." She raised an eyebrow. "And that pretty little brunette you've been seeing? Do you plan to do the same to her?"

Robert looked at her, and smiled. "No," he said, softly. "She is the one person who could...save me."

"Really?" Selina raised her eyebrow. "I would have thought I was more suited to you."

"No, Miss Kyle," Robert said, with dignity. "You are little more than a common tramp." He smirked as he saw her reaction. "And frankly, Miss Kyle, no-one is going to miss you."

She blinked. "No, I don't think so." She turned, hurrying towards the window. Suddenly, she felt hands on her shoulders, and felt herself being pulled back and slammed into the wall.

"No, Miss Kyle, no-one is going to miss you. And you're staying here." Robert moved quickly and smoothly- her hands were bound and her mouth gagged before she could even protest. "You're staying here," he reiterated, as suddenly another man arrived in the room.

"Uncle Peter. Would you escort our guest to her quarters?"

Selina, bewildered, and suddenly afraid, felt Browning grab her upper arm, and pull her out of the room. The other man turned to Robert. "I wondered when you would finally put this troublemaker in her place."

Robert shrugged. "No-one's going to miss her. Leave her locked upstairs for a while, she'll soon starve to death. Then we can just dump the body. Do you think the police are going to care about her, a woman who killed one of the wealthiest men in the world?"

"Robert, you know-" Browning still held a vice like grip on Selina's arm. "You know that things-"

"Can spiral out of control. Trust me, everything is under control."

* * *

Ariadne drew into herself in the carriage. Miles smiled at her. "Miss Hays, he will be well cared for."

"But what happened to him - how did he-"

She stopped. Miles leaned over, and patted her hand.

"There is a way we can find out. But to do so, I need the help of Mr Cobb." She fell silent as the carriage neared the house. Then she spoke.

"We need the help of Mr Eames, also."

Miles nodded his consent. As he opened the door, she felt a wave of hope.

**All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you! **


	22. Chapter 22

Disclaimer:** Inception does not belong to me. **

"Miss Hays?"

Ariadne looked up as she entered the main hall, smiling tiredly at the gracious young footman. He nodded and she walked past, unpinning her hat as she did so. Swallowing, she looked round. Suddenly, the footman spoke.

"Mr Cobb is in the drawing room. He requested that you see him when you return."

She nodded, and began to open the door. She blinked as she entered the room and saw Cobb - he was slumped in a chair, tiredly, almost brokenly. She moved towards him, opening her mouth to speak. Before she could speak, he turned his head, and spoke first.

"Ariadne."

She stopped abruptly, surprised. The words had an almost slur to them, of familiarity. He smiled, as though it were painful, and held out a hand. "Please. Join me."

She took his hand, feeling its coolness. She noted with interest that he still wore a wedding ring, even though he was a widow. She settled down opposite him, in the plush, high backed chair.

Cobb gestured towards the table. "Tea?"

"Please." She reached for the pot, but he held out a hand, stopping her. "No, please, allow me." She watched as the amber liquid streamed and splashed into the delicate china cup. Using tweezers, he picked up a sugar cube, and she nodded. It fell nearly silently into the cup, and she watched it dissolve and fragment.

"You must think me a fool."

She started. The comment was not one she ever would have suspected from the handsome, urbane man. "I don't," she replied, caught off guard. "I dont think you're a fool."

"Really? I let a viper into my home." He shuddered. "Selina Kyle - if she's guilty of -" He picked up the tea cup, and she noted his hand shaking slightly. "Guilty of-"

"Arthur-" she paused, and swallowed, blushing slightly. "Detective Ogilvie is still alive. I know he is, because I've seen him." She looked into her tea cup, and then directly at Cobb. "He's at Mr DeLaune's safe house, but to find out what happened, I need your help."

Cobb nodded. "If I can right any of the wrongs Selina has done, whilst she was in my employment, please." He reached for his own tea cup. "Please, continue."

"Arthur has been -" she looked at him. "I think he was drugged. Or maybe he's been-" she paused. "Trapped in his mind." She looked down at her hands. "When you think you're going insane. You don't know what's real or not." She studied her hands.

"Ariadne..." his voice trailed off. "Have you been talking to Miles about the machine?"

She looked at him. "Well..."

"Because...I think I know what you need."

"At the moment, I need the Police Officer, Eames." She spoke with authority. "He needs to see Arthur."

"Absolutely." Cobb put down his cup, and stood up, staightening himself. "I will send a message to the police."

Ariadne blinked. "Its late-"

"But this is important." Cobb rubbed his face. "My ex-housekeeper is implicated in the death of a man, and also the disappearance of another. And let's not forget the young women currently vanishing around in this city." He shuddered. "I brought my family here for a better life. And because I no longer wanted to stay in New York."

"Because of..." her voice diminished, and he nodded. Quickly, he rang the bell.

* * *

Arthur stirred and murmured in the bed. Dawes walked towards him, and settled on the edge. Balancing in her lap, and in her hands, was a bowl.

"I'm going to clean you," she said, gently, soaking the cloth. "And then I need to get rid of this-" the cloth brushed against the growth of stubble obscuring his formerly clean shaven appearance. "And then-"

"Your eyes."

Dawes blinked, nearly tipping the bowl of water over the bed. "What was that?"

"Eyes." Arthur repeated the word firmly, but quietly. He blinked, and Rachel looked at him closely. "Her eyes...they were all I could see..." his voice faltered, and she put the bowl on the floor, and took his hands.

"Arthur." She spoke quietly. "Arthur, if there is anything you remember, anything at all-"

"Eyes...saw me...came to- his voice began to fade. She put the bowl on the floor and stood up, her heart beginning to pound.

"She came - did she come and see you, while you were in that awful place?!" She leaned over, her voice taking on a new urgency.

"She - she-"

"Poison," Dawes muttered. "You've been poisoned with a hallucinogenic." Turning, she began to hurry out of the room.

* * *

"Mr Eames." Cobb stood at the door, offering his hand. Eames shook it. "Thank you for coming so quickly. I apologise for the lateness."

"No, its fine." Eames shook hands, and entered. "Your message said that you-"

"We've found Arthur." Ariadne interrupted. "We found him!"

Eames voice suddenly rose. "Take me to him, please! Now!"

* * *

Selina swallowed. She was bound, and her eyes were struggling to adjust to the darkness. Suddenly, she heard a voice.

"You played the wrong card, Miss Kyle." She stiffened, and turned her head. "Detective Ogilvie was meant to be my cover. That was what he was meant to do. A naive, trusting fool like that - easily turned. But you went too far, you always do."

He leaned over her. Her eyes widened in horror as she saw the flash of a blade.

"You leave me no choice." His voice was almost sorrowful. "Goodbye, Miss Kyle."

As the sharp blade hovered near her throat, Selina let out a silent scream.

**All readers appreciated, and I'd love some reviews, thank you!**


	23. Chapter 23

Disclaimer:** Inception does not belong to me. **

"How much further?"

Cobb blinked and looked over at Eames, who flushed slightly, as though shocked at his own rudeness. He shook his head. "Sorry," he mumbled. He rubbed his face. "Its been a long night."

"I accept that," Cobb said, reassuringly. He peered out the window. "We're just approaching Waterloo."

Eames put his fist near his mouth, his silence betraying his anxiety. Ariadne was looking at her feet, seemingly not wanting to meet the eyes of either man.

As the carriage rumbled on, a heavy silence descended on all members of the group. All waiting, and hoping.

* * *

Selina lay curled in the corner of the room, trying hard not to break into sobs. Fischer had held the knife at her throat - and for a second, she'd genuinely believed he would use it.

She shuddered, the tears finally breaking free. She felt the ropes that tied her wrists chafe against her skin, and also her throat was dry. She swallowed painfully, longing for water. Her stomach felt empty, hollow.

It wasn't meant to be like this. She had met Fischer whilst working the theatre halls in South London. She'd noticed him immediately. And he, she thought, had instantly recognised that she was a criminal, rather than a poor girl down on her luck.

And he'd offered to help her.

She sighed, leaning against the dirty, dank wall. He'd written her a reference, and also offered her shelter. She smiled despite herself, remembering the nights they'd shared. But, then Arthur had arrived...and Robert had needed her to do a favour.

"Just...encourage him to go back," he said, calmly, holding her hands. They had met at a small, backstreet tea room, not noticed by much of the busy London public. "Do what you need to do...but he can't continue here."

Selina had leaned forward, arching an eyebrow. "You want me to tell him this?"

"No. Just make sure he leaves."

She had smirked. "Oh, I can do that."

Fischer had narrowed his eyes. "You may not be able to seduce him," he warned. "I think this young man has principles."

Selina swallowed. There had been an unspoken part of the deal - she had been planted in Cobb's house to slowly discredit him. Stealing his late wife's pearls; then taking over his life. To try and get him to sell his company to Fischer. But then she' begun to realise something.

She was falling in love with him.

Selina had not intended to fall for Dom Cobb. She'd thought him dull, and over- earnest, too keen to do the right thing. But as she'd watched him interact with his children, and his kindness towards her, she'd begun to soften. And, he had begun speaking to her not as though she were merely a servant, but as an equal.

She closed her eyes. She'd been standing in his study, supposedly to supervise the work of the maid. But the maid had left, and she was at his desk, picking up a framed photo.

"Miss Kyle?"

His voice, soft and unexpected, and nearly resulted in her dropping the photo frame. "Oh, Mr Cobb, I'm so sorry," she'd twittered, adopting the pose of a gormless servant. "I didn't mean to-"

"Oh, no, its fine," he'd replied, stepping into the room. "That's my late wife."

"Oh." She'd put the photo down. "Oh, I'm sorry."

"Its fine," he repeated. "Its been a little while now." He smiled at her, kindly. "Miss Kyle, I am grateful to you for all your work here. You keep this house running."

"Thank you, Sir."

"But..." he'd looked at her, his expression softening. "I do need someone to talk to. Shall we go upstairs?"

Selina shook her head. The memories were overwhelming, and only beginning to cause her to shake. She swallowed. If she got out of here alive, she'd go to Cobb. Beg his help.

And his forgiveness.

* * *

Rachel cast a watchful eye over Arthur. The sedative she'd given him and caused him to pass into sleep - but she noticed that his breathing was far more relaxed.

"What's in your mind?" she murmured. Carefully, she folded the blankets back over him.

"Arthur?!"

She turned, blinking. Eames came barrelling through the door, and went straight to Arthur. "Arthur? Can you hear me?!"

She shivered. "He's...been sedated."

"Really?" Eames glared at her.

"We're going to take him out of here," Cobb said, quietly. "To my house."

Eames looked at Cobb, astonished. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Cobb said, with finality. "Miss...?"

"Dawes," she said, quietly.

"Miss Dawes, I need a good housekeeper. Would you come with him, too?"

She blinked, and then nodded. "Of course."

"Thank you." Cobb rubbed his eyes. "Let's go, shall we?"

**All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you! **


	24. Chapter 24

**Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me.  
**

"Arthur?"

Ariadne peered down at the pale countenance of the man, who was lying in the bed. The rise and fall of his chest indicated he was still alive - but other than that, he was motionless.

She leaned over and carefully tucked the sheets in. Despite the arrival of Rachel Dawes, she felt a responsbility for Arthur. It was he, she realised, who had saved her from the killer. Shivering, she leaned over the grate, preparing to light a fire.

"Miss Hays?"

She looked up. Rachel had entered the room, swapping her dark blue dress for the slightly more formal black and white outfit of the housekeeper. Ariadne smiled, warily - she was not entirely sure the other woman could be trusted, a thought that made her feel guilty. Rachel was nothing like Selina, she reminded herself - the gentleness of Rachel's eyes was something that Selina could never be accuse of having.

"Mr Cobb wants you to go downstairs, for dinner." Rachel was smiling gently. "I'll stay here with Arthur."

Ariadne nodded. "He's sleeping."

"He's sedated," Rachel said, quietly. "Miles needed to give him something, for his own protection."

"What do you mean?"

"In the institute, he was poisoned." Rachel was biting her lip. "Whatever they gave him, there's the prospect its altering his mind." She shuddered - the constant chant of "her eyes" was still enough to chill her blood, accompanied by his wide eyed, glassy stare. "By making him sleep, there's a chance that the poison can be slowed."

Ariadne nodded. "I see." She looked at him. "Rachel?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think..." she bit her lip, not knowing how to answer the question. "Do you think he's going to survive? I mean, really survive?"

Rachel looked at the pale, diminished figure in the bed. "I hope so," she said softly. She met the other woman's eyes. "I really hope so."

* * *

"Get up."

Selina blinked, and turned her head. She suddenly saw the outline of a tall, thin figure, and swallowed. "Yes?"

"Miss Kyle, I need you to get up, and try and make yourself presentable." Robert Fischer stood in the doorway. "I need you to join me for dinner."

"You..." Selina felt her voice trail into nothingness. She felt utterly lost, and confused. Fischer was threatening to kill her, now he wanted her as a dinner companion. She shook her head.

"Selina. This is the only way you will get fed. And as you haven't been fed in over three days, I suggest you do as I say."

Her head jerked up. Three days?! She turned to him. "What-"

"I sedated you." His voice was flat, as though he were simply giving her directions. "You have been sleeping. Were they pleasant dreams, dreams of you and Bruce?"

His tone was cruel and mocking. Selina shook her head. "No," she whispered.

"Now, come on." He reached out, and grabbed her arm, hauling her to her feet. "Let's not be silly."

"Why do you need me to eat with you..." She felt woozy, and sagged against him.

"So you can follow the next part of the plan." He threw the door open, and two cowed looking maidservants stood in the hallway. "Miss Kyle needs to bathe and dress." After releasing her arm, he turned, and walked down the corridor, towards the stairs.

* * *

"Thank you for joining me," Cobb said, as Ariadne entered. She smiled, deciding that they had to try and pretend as though nothing was wrong. "I appreciate it."

"Its fine," she said, nodding.

"Now," Cobb said, leaning forward. "Arthur. I need you to help me and Miles help him."

* * *

"Well, well, Selina, you look almost...respectable. But oh, is the dress too big? Of course it is, you've not eaten for several days. But don't worry, we can fix that."

Wearing a red dress, her hair piled high, Selina settled uneasily into the chair offered. She looked at Robert, who smiled at her with an easy charm.

"In fact, I need you to fix it."

"Why?" She whispered.

"So you can tantalise Dominic Cobb." He shook his head. "I'm sure he would appreciate it if you could reveal some decolletage." He raised an eyebrow. "Please. eat."

* * *

"We need to find out what is happening in Arthur's mind, in his subconscious. This is an experiment...but I think we can do it."

"I-"

"Ariadne. There is no-one else I can trust but you."

* * *

Rachel carefully checked on Arthur, reaching for the themometer she had placed under his chin. She frowned - his temperature was not entirely normal, and his skin was slightly flushed. She reached for the cold rags she had soaked in water, when suddenly, she heard his voice.

"Ari..."

Stunned, she dropped the rags, and began to move towards him. "Arthur?"

"Ari..."

"Yes?"

"Help me..."

Shocked, she moved away, turning for the door.

**All reviews appreciated, thank you!**


	25. Chapter 25

Disclaimer:** Inception does not belong to me.**

Selina sat opposite Fischer, looking at her plate. Suddenly, the servants entered, carrying a new tray of dishes. He nodded as they placed it in the centre of the table. "Thank you."

With a little flourish, he lifted the silver dome. "Well, excellent. Salmon."

Selina swallowed. She looked at her plate again as the food was served, trying not to meet Fischer's eyes. He picked up his wine glass, and took a swallow. She waited until the servants had discreetly left the room.

"So, its very simple," he said, swirling the dark red liquid in his glass. "Go to Cobb's. Entice him. Convince him that you need to lead him somewhere important."

"Why?" she whispered.

"Because I need to finish the job. I paid you to get rid of Ogilvie. It sounds as though he's alive - a babbling, incoherent idiot, but alive. I'm disappointed, Miss Kyle. I would have thought a practiced poisoner like yourself would have found it easy."

Selina looked up, tears forming in her eyes. "I'm not a poisoner."

"That's not what the upright Mr Ogilvie believes. He was the one who tried to track you after the death of Bruce Wayne. Now it looks as though your carelessness has alerted the police to me." He shook his head.

"But if I lead Cobb-" Selina struggled to form her thoughts. "After I lead Cobb, what do you want me to do? Get on the first ship back to Chicago?"

"No," Fischer said, softly. "No. I have something far more...final in store."

She shivered. He smiled and raised his glass.

"Please eat, Miss Kyle."

* * *

Rachel gently patted Arthur's forehead. "You're safe," she said, with the type of weighty reassurance that was said by a mother to a young child. She got up, and watched as the pale young man began to breathe more calmly.

Hurrying downstairs, she prepared to knock on the door of the study. She heard soft voices rising and falling, and swallowed. She knocked on the door, gently. The door swung open.

"Miss Dawes?" Miles stood in front of her. She swallowed.

"Sir, Arthur's awake. And he's calling for Miss Hays."

Miles' eyes widened. "Coming straight away!" He hurried out of the room, followed by Ariadne. As they walked towards Arthur's room, they heard the doorbell.

Then, they heard Cobb's voice. "Thank you so much for coming. Please, this way!"

Ariadne and Miles stood and watched as Cobb led a man in his late forties up the stairs. He had a kind face, shielded by large, horn rimmed glasses. Cobb walked briskly, opening the door to Arthur's room.

"In here, Doctor."

Turning, the doctor nodded, and entered. Surprised, Ariadne and Miles decided to follow. Cobb kept the door open. "Well, I want you all to know the diagnosis, so it is best you come in."

They entered. The doctor was leaning over Arthur, his hands gently prodding the young man. He swallowed and began to speak.

"Very malnourished - his stomach has shrunk. He needs to be carefully fed - no heavy or rich food." He looked at Cobb. "Also, his spleen is a little distended. And he's suffering from lack of fluid - dehydrated. I suggest at the moment you focus on giving him water, and perhaps with a little sugar in."

Cobb nodded. "That can be done."

"Just build him up slowly, don't rush it." The doctor stood up, and shook Cobb's hand. "He will recover, Mr Cobb."

"Thank you, Dr Gordon," Cobb said, reassured. As the other man left, Miles and Ariadne approached the bed.

"So, no sign that he's been poisoned," Miles said, weighing his words. "Which indicates to me that its now settled into his system, and attacking his mind only. Clearly, as far as the doctor's are concerned, he's healthy - merely underweight."

Miles leaned over. "Arthur? Can you hear me?"

Arthur swallowed, his face pasty against the crisp sheets. A soft moan escaped his lips.

"Arthur?"

"Ar-"

"Listen, Arthur. You're safe. Not in that awful, stinking place - you're here."

"Ar- Ari-"

Miles looked up, and nodded. "He's calling for you, Miss Hays. Please, come and sit here."

Ariadne walked forward. "Right." Miles' voice was soft. "Now, just talk to him, as though you're having an everyday conversation."

She took a deep breath. "Arthur-"

He stirred, his eyelids flickering.

"Arthur, can you hear me-"

Suddenly, she heard a commotion downstairs. Arthur, whose lips were parting, closed them again. Ariadne bit her lip in frustration. She heard Cobb. "Miss Kyle!"

Startled, Ariadne dropped Arthur's hand, and ran to the balcony. She gasped.

Selina Kyle, in a ripped dress, her face covered in bruises and with a gash along one cheek, was falling over the threshold, into Cobb's arms.

**All reviews appreciated, thank you!**


	26. Chapter 26

Disclaimer:** Inception does not belong to me.**

Ariadne shook her head. She turned away, faintly disgusted at her employer and his seeming willingness to take back Selina. She could not bear to look at the other woman.

Frowning, she walked back into Arthur's room. Rachel was in there, with a bowl of soup. Miles was sitting by the bed, taking notes.

"Miss Hays!" the other woman stood up.

Ariadne shook her head. "Rachel. Please, call me Ariadne."

"Oh, of course." Slightly flustered, the woman sat down, proceeding to dig the spoon into the soup. The doctor had recommended a series of small, regular meals for Arthur. She lifted the spoon, and put it in Arthur's mouth. His lips closed around it, and he almost smiled.

Ariadne blinked. Rachel turned to her, then back to him. "Arthur?"

He nodded slightly, and Ariadne's mind began to race. Clearly, they needed to find out what had happened. She got up. " Mr DeLaune?"

"Yes, Ariadne?"

"That policeman - Arthur's partner-"

"Mr Eames?"

"Yes, he should be here." Her mind was racing.

Miles looked at her, a faint smile on his lips. "Judging by who has just turned up, I suspect he is already being summoned."

* * *

Eames sighed, slumping in his seat. He felt tired, drained. The half bottle of whiskey he'd downed the previous night hadn't helped, either. Sighing, he shook his head. Arthur and Selina...Arthur and Selina...

He frowned, and began to sit up, digging around in his desk drawer. He was not a tidy man, and a cluttered scuffle of papers bounded out as he wrenched the drawer open. Arthur and Selina - they had known each other. She had come across the Atlantic. But the case-

He pulled open the drawer, and began to sort out the papers. Arthur had been a young detective, sent to investigate the murder of Bruce Wayne. His only suspect - Selina Kyle, a dancer and alleged prostitute.

Eames winced at the brutal description. According to the reports, Wayne, Selina's lover, had been found dead at the scene. She had fled. The report solemnly informed Eames that "At the scene, a few expensive pieces of jewellrey were found. A piece of clothing, belonging to Miss Kyle, was on the floor."

Eames bit his lip.

It did not make sense. If Selina had killed Bruce - why had she left behind valuable items she could sell or pawn, or use to pass herself off as a lady of social standing in England? He frowned, and continued to read.

"Footprints were on the floor."

Whose? Eames wondered. He shook his head. The amount of evidence was beginning to confuse.

"Bruce Wayne died of suspected poisoning. But there were bruises on his arms, showing signs of a struggle."

Bruises?! Eames blinked. Would Selina have been able to do that? His mind was beginning to race. Something else was going on. He swallowed, and put down the papers.

What if Selina had not killed Bruce?

What if she merely happened to be there?

He frowned. If she had, then why had she been allowed to go free? Had she fled during the struggle with the killer - the real killer?

And if so...who had killed Wayne?

And why had she come to London?

Unless...

...A thought crashed into Eames' mind like thunder. He sat bolt upright. Suddenly, things started to look different - very different. He began to get up. He knew where he was going.

* * *

"Please, Selina," Cobb said quietly, as he poured tea. "Please, calm yourself. I do want to listen, and to help you."

He handed over a delicate china cup. She took it, her fingers visibly shaking. He smiled, and took a sip. The simple movement seemed to calm her, and she followed.

"Tell me," Cobb said, his tone gentle. "What happened?"

"Well, I-" She swallowed, and rubbed her face. "I was - I was-" she shook her head. "I was...taken prisoner."

"Prisoner?"

"Yes." She nodded. "I-"

Suddenly, there was a loud knock on the door. Cobb frowned. "Please, ignore it."

He was unable to. Another knock came on the door of the sitting parlour. Cobb ground his teeth in irritation. His butler appeared, looking worried. "Please Sir, there is a gentleman here-"

"Which gentleman?" Cobb asked, getting up. Suddenly, Eames walked in.

"Mr Dominic Cobb," he said, formally, his words calm and clear. "I am arresting you for conspiracy to murder."

Cobb looked stunned. "Murder? What? Who?"

"Of Bruce Wayne." Eames paused. "I have looked at your records - you were in Chicago at the same time as the deceased, and travelled over here- Mr Cobb, I have no choice but to arrest you."

"This is outrageous!" Cobb spluttered. "I'd never even met Bruce Wayne! You're-"

"Silence!" Eames roared. "Come with me NOW!"

Selina watched as Cobb was led away. She sat down, her strength suddenly deserting her.

**All reviews appreciated, thank you!**


	27. Chapter 27

Disclaimer:** Inception does not belong to me. **

Cobb was struck dumb as he followed Eames out of his own front door. The policeman's face was stiff and cold. He cast a look back. Selina was sitting frozen in a chair, flexing her hands.

Motionlessly, Cobb was led out of the building. She sank back, burying her face in her hands.

* * *

"Do you want any more?"

Arthur shook his head. Ariane bit her lip. The bowl was nearly empty, but he was still too thin. His face looked gaunt, and his skin almost grey.

Miles nodded. "I think we're ready."

Ariadne blinked. "But that noise downstairs-"

"I will see what happened," Miles interrupted, his tone gentle. "What I want you to do - is investigate."

Ariadne swallowed. The machine Miles was carefully unwrapping was encased in dark brown leather, with a couple of clear tubes protruding from it. She looked at it, her fingers carefully tracing over its lines. She picked one of the tubes up.

"Here. Slide it in - carefully." She heard Arthur gasp with protest, and the line was attached to his pale arm. "Now, you sit here, and attach another line, to yourself." As she slid it in, she began to lean back, closing her eyes. "Now, wait."

As Ariadne closed her eyes, he pressed the button, and suddenly, she and Arthur began to tumble into darkness.

* * *

Cobb sat down, eyeing Eames uneasily. The other man was leaning over his desk, giving him a rather aggressive appearance. Cobb watched as he then sat down.

"Please," Cobb said, quietly. "This is a mistake. I never met Bruce Wayne, and-"

"Really?" Eames' eyes narrowed. "Two young industrialists in the same city, and you never knew each other?"

Cobb shook his head, his impatience building. "This is guess work. That's all it is. I did not know him, I never did."

"But what about Selina Kyle?" Eames' voice was dangerous, probing. "She was engaged to Wayne. And suddenly, she's living in your house, working to raise your children. Are you sure that you didn't bring her over here, bribe her to keep her mouth shut?"

"I did not!" Cobb was on his feet, his face scarlet with anger. "I did not bribe Miss Kyle - I did not even know her! She came over to London, and I met her-"

"Because you already knew her," Eames said, his voice spiked with danger. "You already knew her, and were trying to cover your own trail!"

"That is NOT TRUE!" Cobb was practically shouting at Eames. "That is simply NOT TRUE, and you have NO RIGHT TO-"

Eames shook his head. "You can spend the night here. Give you time to cool off."

Stunned, Cobb felt a cold snap of metal on his wrist, and suddenly, he was being escorted to the cells.

* * *

Ariadne blinked, and looked round.

She was sitting in a plush apartment. An apartment that was clearly the property of a very wealthy individual.

Curious, she got up, and began to walk towards the door.

* * *

Selina blinked. She had only a second to react.

As she heard footsteps coming down the stairs, she grabbed an object close to hand - a large, glass ashtray. Miles hurried in through the doorway.

"Miss Kyle, what on earth-"

Lifting the ashtray, she struck him on the side of the head. As he staggered and collapsed, she turned, rushing out the door.

**I love reviews, if you could leave one it would be great, thank you!**


End file.
